THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  ILLINOIS 

LIBRARY 


320.  1 

445 
1830 


The  person  charging  this  material  is  re- 
sponsible for  its  return  to  the  library  from 
which  it  was  withdrawn  on  or  before  the 
Latest  Date  stamped  below. 

Theft,  mutilation,  and  underlining  of  books 
are  reasons  for  disciplinary  act.on  and  may 
result  in  dismissal  from  the  Un.vers.ty. 

-    URBAN  A-CHAMPAIGN_ 


PRINCIPLES 


LEGISLATION: 

FROM    THE      MS.     OF 

JEREMY       BENTHAM; 

BENCHER    OF    LINCOLN'S    INN. 

BY  M.  DUMONT, 

MEMBER     OF    THE    REPRESENTATIVE    AND    SOVEREIGN    COUNCIL    OF 

GENEVA. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  SECOND  CORRECTED 
AND  ENLARGED  EDITION  ; 

WITH  NOTES  AND  A  BIOGRAPHICAL   NOTICE  OF  JEREMY  BENTHAM 
AND  OF  M  DUMONT. 

BY      JOHN      N  E  AL,  . 


BOSTON: 

WELLS  AND  LILLY— COURT-STREET. 

G.  &  C.  &  H.  Can-ill,  and  E.  Bliss,  New  York  ;  E.  L.  Carey  &  A. 
Hart,  Philadelphia  ;  W.  &  J.  Neal,  Baltimore  ;  P.  Thompson,  Wash- 
ington ;  W.  Berrett,  Charleston,  S.  C.  ;  Mary  Carrol,  New  Orleans  ;  W. 
C.  Little,  Albany  ;  H.  Howe,  New  Haven,  and  S.  Colman,  Portland. 

1830. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  WIT: 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

HE  IT  REMEMBERED,  that  on  the  ninth  day  of  April,  A.  D.  1830,  in  the  fifty-fourth  year 
of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  Wells  &  Lilly,  of  the  said  District,  have 
deposited  in  this  Office  the  Title  of  a  Book,  the  Right  whereof  they  claim  as  Proprietors,  in  the 
words  following,  to  ivit : 

"  Principles  of  Legislation :  From  the  MS.  of  Jeremy  Bentham,  Bencher  cf  Lincoln's  Inn.  By 
M.  Diimi,nt,  Meniherof  the  RepretCBtative  and  Sovereign  Council  of  Geneva.  Translated  from 
the  second  corn  cud  and  enlarged  edition  ;  with  notes  and  a  biographical  notice  of  Jereni)  Bentham 
and  of  M.  Duinont.  By  John  Neal." 

In  i-riiiforiiiity  tc  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled  "  An  Act  for  the  en- 
conragemeni  ot  Learning,  by  securing  ihe  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts  and  Books,  to  the  Authors  and 
Proprietors  of  such  Copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;"  and  also  to  an  Act,  entitled, "  An 
act  supplementary  to  an  Act,  entitled  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  Learning,  by  securing-  the 
Copies  of  Maps,Charts  and  Books,  to  the  Authors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies  during  the  times 
therein  mentioned  j  and  extending  the  Benefits  thereof  to  the  Arts  of  Designing,  Engraving,  and 
Etching  Historical  and  other  Prints." 

JNO.  W.  DAVIS, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


PREFACE. 


HAVING  a  two-fold  object  in  view,  the  work  herewith 
submitted  to  my  countrymen  is  in  two  parts.  By  the  first, 
which  is  nothing  more  than  a  familiar  biographical  sketch, 
they  are  brought  acquainted  with  the  man  Jeremy  Bent- 
ham  :  by  the  last,  which  may  be  regarded  as  an  abridgment 
of  his  whole  system  of  philosophy,  with  the  Philanthropist, 
the  Lawgiver,  and  the  Statesman. 

Of  the  biographical  sketch  referred  to,  which  precedes  the 
following  translation  of  his  celebrated  work  on  MORALS  and 
LAW,  by  M.  Dumont  of  Geneva,  a  small  part  has  already  ap- 
peared in  the  Yankee  and  other  journals  of  our  country  ;  the 
remainder  is  entirely  new.  The  whole  of  the  second  part 
has  been  carefully  reviewed  and  compared  with  the  origi- 
nals, paragraph  by  paragraph. 

The  readers  (and  the  writers)  of  the  Edinburgh,  Quar- 
terly, Westminster  and  North  American  Reviews,  will  now 
have  what  they  never  have  had  before — an  opportunity  of 
knowing  the  truth  and  the  whole  truth  about  the  character 


iV  PREFACE. 

and  opinions,  the  philosophy  and  the  faith  of  a  man,  whose 
followers — the  calumniated  Utilitarians — are  now  so  nume- 
rous and  so  powerful,  as  to  be  reckoned  a  party  in  the  Bri- 
tish empire. 

I  have  concealed  nothing — palliated  nothing — I  have  nei- 
ther softened  nor  exaggerated  the  facts.  And  though  a  Util- 
itarian myself,  a  hearty  disciple  of  Jeremy  Bentham  the 
philosopher  and  the  lawgiver,  and  somewhat  of  a  Radical,  I 
profess  to  belong  to  no  party  either  in  politics  or  religion,  to 
be  of  no  sect  either  in  belief  or  practice,  and  to  have  no  sort 
of  regard  for  Jeremy  Bentham's  theology. 

They  who  misrepresent  the  character  of  the  party  alluded 
to,  that  of  their  venerable  founder,  and  the  objects  and  opin- 
ions of  both,  do  it  generally  from  ignorance  or  misapprehen- 
sion, though  sometimes  with  apolitical  view.  By  the  Tories 
the  Utilitarians  are  judged  of,  as  Radicals — their  leader  as  the 
high-priest  of  the  Radicals.  With  the  whigs  it  is  pretty  much 
the  same.  They  are  perpetually  confounded  together  ;  per- 
petually mistaken  for  each  other,  and  always  treated  as  a 
common  adversary  by  the  leading  writers  and  chief  states- 
men of  the  day  :  notwithstanding  which,  there  are  thousands 
of  Radicals — yea,  tens  of  thousands,  who  know  nothing  of  the 
Utilitarians  or  of  their  belief,  and  thousands  of  Utilitarians 
who  never  had  any  thing  to  do  with  any  political  party  what- 
ever. 


PREFACE.  V 

I  may  be,  and  I  dare  say  shall  be,  blamed  by  both  for 
what  I  have  published  here.  The  Utilitarians  will  say  that 
I  have  betrayed  them,  by  betraying  their  founder's  religious 
belief,  or  want  of  religious  belief :  as  if  it  were  not  high  time 
for  the  whole  truth  to  appear,  now  that  so  many  falsehoods 
are  about ;  as  if  toleration  could  ever  be  expected  where  it 
was  not  manfully  and  bravely  insisted  on  ;  as  if  the  follower 
of  Jeremy  Bentham's  philosophy  with  regard  to  man,  should 
be  therefore  a  follower  of  his  theology,  or  want  of  theology, 
with  regard  to  the  Builder  of  the  Universe,  the  Great  God 
of  Heaven  and  Earth — Jehovah.  But  while  one  party  do 
this,  the  other,  the  unreasoning  multitude,  the  Non-Utilita- 
rians may  charge  me  with  being  an  atheist  myself,  because  I 
will  not  suffer  even  avowed  atheism  to  deter  me  from  ac- 
knowledging worth  wherever  I  see  it,  nor  from  following 
truth  in  whatever  shape  it  may  appear.  Be  it  so.  What  I 
have  done,  I  have  done  conscientiously,  and  I  shall  not 
shrink  from  the  consequences.  The  truth  and  the  whole 
truth  was  wanted  on  both  sides  of  the  water,  and  here  as 
much  as  there.  But  who  should  speak  it  ?  Those  who  could, 
would  not ;  and  those  who  would,  could  not.  None  but  a 
professed  and  avowed  Utilitarian  could  reveal  the  truth,  and 
such  Utilitarians  were  afraid.  Believing  as  I  do,  that  good 
may  come  out  of  Nazareth,  I  have  not  scrupled  to  acknow- 
ledge every  thing  that  stands  in  its  way,  every  drawback, 
every  shadow,  every  fault,  every  ground  of  prejudice. 

J.  N. 
Portland,  April  1,  ^830. 


CONTENTS. 


BIOGRAPHICAL   NOTICE   OF  JEREMY    BENTHAM. 

Page. 
CHAP.    I. — His   GENERAL   CHARACTER.  ....          9 

CHAP.    II. — GENERAL   VIEW    OF    HIS  WORKS.  ...         27 

CHAP.    III. — FAMILIAR    ANECDOTES    OF    MR.    BENTHAM. — First 
Acquaintance  with  his  Works — Utilitarians — First  Interview — Mil- 
ton's  House — The   Dinner — Mr.    Adams — Resemblance   to    Dr. 
Franklin — Mr.  B. — Peculiarities  of  Dress,  Diet,  Language,  &c.  41 

CHAP.     IV. — Bentham's  Reminiscences — Garrick   in   Abel   Drugger — 
Effect  of  old  age — Parry — the  Panopticon — His  Theory  of  Punish- 
ments and  Rewards — Style — Work  on  Evidence — Father — His  first 
attempt  in  the  Law — Dumont — Rough  Language — Summer  Dress 
— Fear  of  Ghosts — Origin  of  Bentham — His  Father — Sleeps  stand- 
ing— Avowal — Butler — Col.  Young — Writing — Music — Phrenolo- 
gy— Benchers,  what? — Domestic  Habits — Fun  of  the  Secretaries — 
Father — Wedderbourne — The  Musical  Society — His  Grandmother 
Erskine — Step-mother.     .....  ..        .         56 

CHAP.  V. — Dr.  Parr — Mr.  Parkes — Col.  Stanhope — Dr.  Maculloch — 
Sympathy — Penal  Code — Helvetius — Relatives  on  the  side  of  the 
mother — Poetry — Reading  to  Sleep — Singular  Habit  of  throwing 
up  his  Hair — Ghosts — Marked  and  Sheared — Bed-chamber  Habits 
—Mr.  Smith,  M.  P.— Breakfast— Fruit  before  Dinner— His  Bed- 
Servants — Theory  and  Practice  at  War — Bowring — Sir  F.  Burdett 
— Sir  Samuel  Romilly — Cobbett — Mr.  B.'s  Father — Mother-in- 

Law — Quarrel  with Reform  in  the  House — Rhyming — 

Love  of  Order — Humanity — Bentham  on  Style.             .        .  76 

CHAP.  VI. — Panopticon — Magnificent  Project — Poetry — Fun — Bowring 
— Management — Hume — Goes  to  a  Pantomime — Aged  Greek — 
Mr.  Gallatin — Style  of  Dumont — Dr.  Johnson — Boswell — Voltaire 
— Autumn — Parallel  between  Bentham  and  Hobbes — Biography, 
what  .'—Solly's  Portrait 99 

CHAPTER  ON   UTILITY. 

('THE    GREATEST-HAPPINESS   PRINCIPLE.')  .         .         .         119 


CONTENTS.  Vlll 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE  OF  M.  DUMONT,   BY  J.   B.         .        148 

SKETCH    OF  THE  LIFE  AND    CHARACTER  OF  STEPHEN 

DUMONT.— BY  J.  C.  L.  DE  SISMONDI.          ...        157 

PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION. 

PRELIMINARY  DISCOURSE. — BY  M.  DTTMOWT.          .        .        .        175 

CHAP.  I. — Of  the  Principle  of  UTILITY. 195 

CHAP.  II. — Of  the  Ascetic  Principle 199 

CHAP.  III. — the  Arbitrary  Principle,  or  Principle  of  Sympathy  and  of 

Antipathy 202 

CHAP.  IV. — Operation  of  these  Principles  on  the  Matter  of  Legislation.  212 
CHAP.  V. — FINAL  EXPLANATION. — Objections  answered  touching  the 

Principle  of  Utility 215 

CHAP.  VI. — Of  the  different  Kinds  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.         .         .         223 

Section  I. — Simple  Pleasures. 224 

Section  II. — Simple  Pains.  227 

CHAP.  VII. — Of  Pains  and  Pleasures  considered  as  Sanctions.  .         231 

CHAP.  VIII.— Of  the  Value  of  Pleasures  and  Pains.  ...  237 
CHAP.  IX. — Section  I. — Of  the  Circumstances  that  influence  Sensibility,  240 

Section  II. — Secondary  Circumstances  which  influence  our  Sensi- 
bility       •  .         .         .         247 

Section  III. — Practical  Application  of  this  Theory.  •         .         252 

CHAP.  X. — Analysis  of  political  Good  and  Evil — how  they  are  spread  in 

Society.         .......  259 

CHAP.  XI. — Reasons  for  declaring  certain  Acts  to  be  Offences,  .  268 
CHAP.  XII. — Of  the  Limits  which  separate  Morals  from  Legislation,  276 
CHAP.  XIII. — Examples  of  False  Modes  of  Reasoning  on  the  Subject  of 

Legislation.  285 


PRINCIPLES     OF     LEGISLATION. 


CHAPTER     I. 


JEREMY    BRNTHAM. 

HIS        GENERAL        CHARACTER. 

FOR  more  than  half  a  century  the  labours  of  JERE- 
MY BENTHAM  have  been  before  the  English,  and  the 
readers  of  English  in  every  part  of  the  world. (1) 
And  yet,  up  to  this  hour,  though  extraordinary  changes 
have  lately  occurred,  and  though  his  avowed  follow- 
ers are  now  to  be  found  in  every  part  of  Europe  and 
throughout  both  Americas,  and  always  among  the 
more  inquisitive,  the  more  thoughtful,  and  the  better- 
educated  of  their  country,  the  views  and  objects  of 
no  man  perhaps  were  ever  so  generally  misunder- 
stood, or  so  strangely  or  so  safely  misrepresented. (2) 

Things  are  said  of  him  and  of  his  works,  every  day, 
and  by  the  first  men  of  the  age,  who  are  believed  by 
the  multitude  to  be  familiar  with  both,  and  whose 
judgments  go  abroad  therefore  with  the  solemnity  of 
decrees,  though  full  of  mischief  and  error — things 
which  have  no  foundation  whatever  in  truth.  Opi- 
nions that  he  never  entertained  in  his  life  ;  theo- 
ries that  he  has  been  waging  war  with  for  full  fifty 

(1)  His  first  work  appeared  in  1776.     See  the  list  published,  commencing 
page  27. 

(2)  See  the  North-American  Review  for  Jan.  1828. 


10  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

years,  are  attributed  to  him  in  works  of  authority,  as 
the  very  foundation  of  that  stupendous  pile,  which, 
after  a  long  life  of  solitary  labour,  of  discouraging, 
incessant,  unassisted  enquiry,  he  has  riowr  built  up  so 
high  and  spread  out  so  far,  and  fortified  with  such 
magnificent  proportions,  that  the  rulers  and  lawgivers 
of  the  earth  cannot  overlook  it,  and  will  not  be  suf- 
fered to  pass  it  by ;  for  the  eyes  of  the  people  are 
beginning  to  be  turned  upon  it  and  upon  them, 
throughout  both  hemispheres,  with  a  holy  determina- 
tion to  know  the  truth  hereafter,  and  to  enquire,  eac4i 
man  for  himself,  into  the  great  principles  of  legisla- 
tion. They  are  growing,  weary  of  law,  wherever  law 
is  not  upon  the  very  face  of  it,  reason.  They  are  no 
longer  satisfied,  they  never  will  be  satisfied  again,  it 
is  to  be  hoped,  with  arbitrary  usage,  or  avowed  mys- 
tery in  the  business  of  rule.  They  are  tired  of  mak- 
ing bricks  without  straw — of  adopting  faith  after  faith, 
in  political  as  in  religious  life,  at  the  bidding  of  au- 
thority. In  a  word,  they  are  beginning  to  feel  their 
strength,  to  interrogate  the  powers  that  be,  to  think 
highly  of  themselves,  to  believe  that  they  are  worth  rea- 
soning with,  and  that  however  we  may  argue  or  phi- 
losophize, they  are  in  fact  the  high  court  of  appeal 
for  the  governing  and  the  governed  ;  for  judges  and 
for  legislators;  the  ultimate  sovereign  power  to  which 
every  other  power  must  yield,  whenever  a  matter 
comes  fairly  to  issue  before  them,  either  in  the  trial- 
place  of  nations — the  field  of  death ;  or  at  the  bar  of 
nations — the  public-opinion  tribunal. 

But  the  perversity  and  error  to  which  I  have  allud- 
ed, as  now  distinguishing  those,  who  ought  to  be  fa- 
miliar with  every  work  of  their  great  countryman, 
will  not  be  thought  so  very  strange,  perhaps,  when 
we  recollect  that  of  what  he  has  written,  hardly  a 
fourth  part  in  bulk,  and  perhaps  not  a  fiftieth  part  in 
value,  has  ever  appeared  in  the  native  language  of  the 
author ;  that  until  within  a  very  few  years,  the  most 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  1 1 

valuable  of  his  works  were  not  only  unknown  to  the 
great  body  of  English  every  where,  but  actually  un- 
heard of  by  his  next-door  neighbours,  and  by  most  of 
the  lawgivers  of  the  British  empire,  except  through 
an  occasional  newspaper-paragraph,  or  a  Quarterly 
sneer  at  the  ballot-boxes,  the  unintelligible  language, 
or  the  more  unintelligible  theory  they  were  supposed 
to  conceal.  And  this,  while  they  were  to  be  found 
in  every  public  library  of  Europe,  out  of  the  author's 
own  country — and  upon  the  table  of  every  states- 
man, jurist,  or  philosopher  of  the  continent ;  this,  af- 
ter nearly  ten  thousand  copies  of  one  work  in  three 
large  octavo  volumes,  and  nearly  as  many  more  of 
several  other  works  by  the  same  author,  had  been 
rescued  by  a  foreigner  from  a  heap  of  neglected 
manuscripts — a  treasury  of  wisdom — a  store-house  of 
wonderful  thought — worked  over  into  French,  pub- 
lished at  Paris — re-translated,  and  republished  in  four 
or  five  other  languages,  and  circulated  in  chapters 
throughout  every  quarter  of  the  globe — the  north 
striving  with  the  south,  the  new  world  with  the  old, 
to  give  them  simultaneous  publicity;  and  the  whole 
being  regarded  everywhere,  except  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  the  author,  among  his  fellow-coun- 
trymen, or  among  those  who  speak  the  same  language, 
as  by  far  the  most  profound,  extraordinary  and  useful 
work  of  the  age. 

Dr.  Parr  used  to  say,  and  I  might  mention  several 
more,  that  since  the  JYovum  Organum  appeared,  there 
had  been  nothing  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind 
to  compare  with  the  Principles  of  Morals  and  Legisla- 
tion (this  very  work)  by  Jeremy  Bentham.  Yet  the 
doctor  was  no  friend  of  the  author.  All  their  pur- 
suits in  life  were  different,  all  their  studies,  all  their 
prejudices  and  partialities,  even  their  politics  and  their 
language.  They  were  acquainted,  and  that  was  all. 
No  two  men  ever  pitied  each  other  more.  The  doc- 
tor abominated  the  style  of  Bentham  ;  and  Bentham 


12  JEREMY  BENTIIAM. 

believed  the  doctor  to  be  incapable  of  understanding 
the  subject-matter. 

It  is  very  true  that  the  style  of  Mr.  Bentham  now, 
is  involved  and  peculiar  ;  now,  I  say,  because  at  an 
earlier  period,  when  he  wrote  his  Fragment  on  Gov- 
ernment, in  reply  to  Blackstone,  and  his  celebrated 
work  on  Usury,  it  was  thought  remarkable  for  strength, 
purity,  and  ease.  But  the  subjects  now  handled  by  Mr. 
Bentham,  are  as  different  from  those  then  treated  of, 
as  are  the  problems  of  Euclid,  or  the  doctrines  of  the 
Principia,  from  the  elements  of  arithmetic.  Then, 
he  might  be  allowed  to  talk  on  paper — to  lay  down 
what  he  had  to  say,  without  fear  of  being  misunder- 
stood or  misquoted.  But  now,  it  would  be  neither 
safe  nor  wise  for  him  to  do  so.  His  propositions  are 
startling  enough,  though  accompanied  with  all  their 
neutralizing  qualifications  and  exceptions.  A  period 
now  is  not  a  period  merely,  nor  a  paragraph,  nor  a 
page — but  a  problem.  Hence  the  difficulty  of  his 
language  now.  They  who  are  not  acquainted  with 
his  earlier  works,  who  have  not  followed  him,  through 
abridgment  after  abridgment  of  the  same  views,  till 
what  was  once  a  large  book,  has  been  reduced  to  a 
chapter  and  then  to  a  table,  or  it  may  be  to  a  phrase, 
cannot  well  understand  his  English,  and  for  that  rea- 
son ought  never  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  his  works. 
But  they  may  read  him  in  French  with  safety.  M. 
Dumont  has  made  his  chief  mysteries  intelligible  ; 
and  it  is  to  M.  Dumont  therefore  that  we  should  as- 
cribe the  growing  popularity  of  Mr.  Bentham  among 
his  own  people.  Compare  the  English  quarto,  enti- 
tled, "Introduction  to  the  principles  of  Morals  and 
Legislation,"  and  published  in  1789,  with  M.  Du- 
mont's  abridgment  of  the  same  work.  One  is  a  se- 
vere and  almost  unprofitable  study,  except  to  the  pre- 
pared and  thoroughly-disciplined,  while  the  other  is  a 
beautiful  and  eloquent  work,  which  almost  any  body 
might  read  with  pleasure.  But  after  you  have  gone 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  IS 

through  with  the  French  author,  and  made  yourself 
master  of  the  outlines,  if  you  go  back  to  the  English, 
it  will  be  with  a  fervency  and  relish  that  in  most  cases, 
will  keep  you  there.  I  never  knew  any  body  satisfied 
with  Bentham  till  he  had  become  acquainted  with 
Dumont ;  nor  any  body  that  ever  went  back  to  the 
original,  who  could  afterwards  endure  the  translation. 
By  this,  I  do  not  mean  to  speak  lightly  of  the  latter — 
for,  after  all,  it  is  to  the  translator  that  the  men  of 
Europe  are  now  indebted  for  all  they  know  of  Jeremy 
Bentham  ;  and  it  is  by  the  translator  that  posterity 
will  be  made  familiar  with  him.  No — not  familiar. 
I  should  not  say  this — for  M.  Dumont  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  man.  It  was  the  lawgiver  and  the  phi- 
losopher that  he  dealt  with ;  and  if  no  other  were  to 
follow,  and  give  society  a  portrait  of  Jeremy  Bent- 
ham,  as  he  is — with  all  his  power  and  weakness, 
amazing  wisdom  and  child-like  simplicity,  his  breadth 
and  his  depth,  in  the  e very-day  business  of  life,- most 
of  the  errors  that  prevail  now  with  regard  to  him  and 
his  views,  might  prevail  forever. 

It  is  not  enough  to  know  that  Jeremy  Bentham 
was  born  "  the  14-5  Feb.  1747-8,"  to  give  the  fact 
from  his  own  mouth  in  his  own  way ;  that  he  is 
therefore  at  this  time  upwards  of  fourscore  and  two, 
and  like  Lear  '  mightily  abused ;'  that  for  many 
years,  the  codifying-project,  the  style,  the  involved 
sentences  of  the  philosopher,  which  have  been  rather 
happily  compared  to  a  nest  of  pill-boxes,  and  the 
strange  words  invented  by  him,  which  though  expres- 
sive and  powerful  enough  when  rightly  explained,  (3) 
are  unintelligible  to  the  careless  or  the  uninitiated, 
have  been  a  subject  of  raillery  or  abuse  with  almost 
every  magazine-writer  and  speech-maker  of  England  ; 

(3)  Some  of  these  words  are  in  general  use  now  as  a  part  of  our  language 
— international  for  instance;  it  originated  with  him.  Codification  is  ano- 
ther, with  its  derivatives  and  cognates.  But  others  are  not  very  likely  to  be 
adopted — the  verb  to  re-nn-certainize  for  example;  which  means,  being  inter- 
preted, to  make-uncertain-again. 


14  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

that  till  the  year  1824,  when  the  following  paragraph 
appeared  in  Blackwood,  Mr.  Bentham  had  never  been 
respectfully  mentioned  by  any  of  the  British  journals, 
except  the  Edinburgh  Review,  (4)  though  they  were 
in  the  habit  of  alluding  both  to  his  works  and  himself 
continually,  as  if  well  acquainted  with  both  :  "  Set- 
ting aside  John  Locke's  Constitution  for  North  Ca- 
rolina, and  Jeremy  Bentham's  conundrums  in  le- 
gislation, to  speak  reverently  of  what  we  cannot 
speak  irreverently  of,  a  truly  great  and  incomprehen- 
sible mind,  whose  thoughts  are  problems,  and  whose 
words — when  they  are  English — miracles"  (5)  the 
author  of  which  had  never  seen  Mr.  Bentham, 
and  knew  him  only  through  a  part  of  his  works 
and  the  general  misrepresentation  of  others.  Nor  is 
it  enough  to  know  that  a  mighty  change  has  been 
wrought  within  a  very  few  years,  and  that  he  is  be- 
ginning to  be  regarded  now  by  the  greatest  of  his 
fellow-countrymen,  as  by  far  the  most  extraordinary 
man  alive.  Something  more  familiar  must  be  had, 
something  in  the  nature  of  a  portrait,  whereby  others 
may  be  made  acquainted,  not  merely  with  the  Lord 
Bacon  of  our  age,  the  great  high-priest  of  legisla- 
tion, the  chief  among  lawgivers;  but  with  the  man 
Jeremy  Bentham. 

Such  a  portrait  is  now  to  be  attempted  for  the 
lovers  of  such  biography.  It  will  be  for  them  to  say 
whether  a  magnificent  picture,  which,  by  resembling 
every  body,  would  be  a  portrait  of  nobody,  is  worthier 
of  admiration.  It  may  be  wanting  in  dignity — I  hope 
it  may — but  of  this  the  reader  may  be  sure  :  what- 
ever it  wants  in  dignity  shall  be  made  up  in  truth  ; 
and  in  such  truth  too  as  will  soon  be  sought  after 
with  deep  solicitude,  not  only  here,  and  in  the  country 
of  our  philosopher,  but  throughout  the  whole  earth. 

After  a  few  preliminary  observations,  I  shall  take 

(4)  In  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  57,  p.  237,  mention  is  made  of  Mr.  B. 
by  Sir  Samuel  Romilly ;  one  of  his  most  distinguished  and  enthusiastic  disciples. 

(5)  Blackwood,  Dec,  1824,  p.  649. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  15 

up  a  body  of  memoranda,  now  lying  before  me,  which 
were  made  every  night,  and  before  I  slept,  after  we 
had  passed  the  evening  together^  and  transfer  them, 
with  as  little  change  as  possible,  directly  to  these 
pages.  They,  therefore,  who  wish  to  be  acquainted 
with  the  lawgiver  and  the  philosopher,  and  with  him 
only,  need  not  throw  away  one  single  hour  upon  this 
part  of  the  book,  which  is  intended  for  such,  and  for 
such  only  as  care  to  be  acquainted  with  the  man,  but 
proceed  forthwith  to  the  second  part,  where  Bentham 
and  Dumont  are  occupied  with  the  great  business 
of  morals  and  legislation. 

The  followers  of  Mr.  Bentham,  disciples  they  might 
be  called,  for  take  them  together',  there  is  not  such 
another  body  of  sober  enthusiasts  and  thorough-going 
devotees  alive,  are  multiplying  on  every  side  of  him 
now,  in  a  part  of  his  country,  where  five  years  ago 
his  name  was  never  alluded  to,  his  works  never  men- 
tioned, but  with  ridicule  and  reproach.  A  Quarterly 
Review  has  been  established  by  him ;  (6)  several  of 
his  neglected  manuscripts  have  been  dug  out  of  his 
"  work-shop,"  and  given  to  the  world  in  pretty  good 
English,  though  most  of  them  were  left  to  the  edi- 
torship of  inexperienced  writers,  or  still  more  inexpe- 
rienced thinkers;  (7)  changes  that  he  predicted  years 

(6)  The  Westminster  Review,  of  which  Mr.  John  Bowring  and  Mr.  Henry 
Southern  were  the  editors — both  well  qualified  for  the  superintendence  of  a 
lighter  and  more  agreeable  work  ;  but  in  every  way  disqualified  for  that  of  a 
Quarterly  Review.     They  were  supplied  for  a  time,  however,  by  a  club  of 
Utilitarians,  of  which  Mr.  Mill  the  father  and  Mr.  Mill  the  son,  both  capital 
fault-finders,  Mr.  George  Grote,  the  banker,  Mr.  Parke,  the  '  Solicitor  of  War- 
wickshire,' alluded  to  by  Mr.  Brougham  in  his  celebrated  speech  on  the  State 
of  English  Law,  Mr.  I.  and  Mr.  C.  Austin,  Mr.  Hill,  and  Mr.  Bingham,  the 
barristers,  and  a  few  more,  did  all  the  thinking,  while  the  editors  did  all  the 
talking  and  proof-reading. 

(7)  Mr.  Bowring  edited  the  pamphlet  called  "  Observations  on  the  Com- 
mercial System,"  published  at  London,  1821.    Mr.  George  Grote,  the  banker, 
(a  writer  of  great  zeal,  strength,  and  acuteness)  a  work  of  140  pages,  octavo, 
on  Natural  Religion,  published  under  the  name  of  Philip  Beauchamp.    Lon- 
don, 1822.     Mr.  Richard  Doane,  private  secretary  of  the  Author,  a  mere  boy 
at  the  time,  but  clever,  his  Not  Paul  but  Jesus,  a  theological  work  in  400 
pages,  octavo,  with  tables,  published  under  the  borrowed  name  of  Gamaliel 
Smith.    London,  1823.    Mr.  Bingham,  the  reporter,  the  Book  of  Fallacies, 
published  in  1824,  in  411  pages  octavo,  and  reviewed  in  a  masterly  manner, 


16  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

and  years  ago,  have  occurred  in  the  political  faith  oi 
his  chief  countrymen  ;  the  British  parliament  has  felt 
and  acknowledged  his  influence  through  her  principal 
ministers,  and  ablest  orators,  and  wisest  lawgivers  ; 
and  what  more  than  any  thing  else,  may  have  contri- 
buted to  the  removal  of  the  ban  of  the  empire,  the 
people  of  the  Edinburgh-Review,  and  even  those  of 
the  Quarterly,  have  had  the  courage  to  read  here  and 
there  a  chapter  of  his  lighter  works,  and  to  pronounce 
judgment  thereon,  without  much  regard  to  the  repu- 
tation of  the  author,  as  the  head  of  a  dangerous  poli- 
tical party.  (8) 

Notwithstanding  the  change  that  has  taken  place 
however,  such  is  the  retired  life  that  Mr.  Bentham 
has  lived  for  nearly  half  a  century,  at  what  he  calls 
the  hermitage  of  Queen-square-Place,  never  going 
abroad  except  for  a  walk  in  the  fresh  air,  never  see- 
ing any  body  but  his  house-keeper  and  secretary  till 
the  business  of  the  day  is  over ;  enduring  no  visits 
either  of  ceremony  or  curiosity,  friendship  or  business, 
except  when  they  refer  to  the  subject-matter  he  is 
dealing  with  ;  encountering  not  so  many  as  half  a 
score  of  strangers  in  a  twelve-month,  nor  ever  more 
than  one  at  a  time  ;  that,  as  to  the  public  of  his  coun- 
try, they  know  nothing  about  him, — for  his  next-door 
neighbours  hardly  know  him  by  sight ;  and  as  to  the 
public  men  of  his  country,  who  are  in  the  habit  of  tel- 

by  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  LXXXIV.  Mr.  John 
Mill,  a  youth  of  twenty-one,  the  great  work,  entitled  Rationale  of  Evidence, 
in  five  large  octavos,  also  reviewed  in  the  Edinburgh,  No.  XCVI.  Mr.  George 
Bentham,  his  nephew,  the  Outlines  of  a  New  System  of  Logic,  a  vol- 
ume of  288  pages  octavo.  And  of  the  distinguished  men  alluded  to  above,  all 
statesmen,  orators,  and  writers,  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  Mr. 
Brougham,  Mr.  Peel,  and  Mr.  Canning,  may  be  mentioned  as  either  avowed 
or  secret  followers  of  Mr.  Bentham.  The  first  was  a  devotee  ;  the  second 
either  a  believer  or  not  a  believer,  as  he  happened  to  be  or  not  to  be,  within 
the  reach  of  his  Gamaliel  ;  the  third  a  hearty  and  earnest  follower  in  his 
great  plan  of  reform,  for  which  he  was  frequently  upbraided  ;  the  fourth,  a  se- 
cret disciple,  and  the  fifth  a  fellow-labourer  hi  the  very  constitution  of  his 
mind,  so  large  and  liberal  was  it,  so  ready  to  regard  the  whole  earth  as  one 
great  brotherhood  of  nations. 

(8)  The  last  numbers  of  the  Edinburgh  contain  papers  on  the  subject  of 
Utilitarian  logic  and  politics.    See  No.  XCVIL,  XCVIIL,  XCIX.,  &c. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  1 7 

ling,  believing,  and  vouching  for  a  thousand  strange 
stories  about  the  Philosopher,  as  they  call  him — there 
are  not  forty,  I  do  believe,  that  ever  saw  his  face. 

The  Blackwood-writers  know  nothing  at  all  of  him  ; 
the  writers  of  the  Edinburgh  and  Quarterly  Reviews 
not  much;    and  they  who  do  know  him,  the  chief 
writers  of  the  Westminster  Review,  being  his  disci- 
ples and  followers  rather  in  secret  than  openly,  dare 
not  deal  with  him  as  they  would  with  a  stranger,  who 
had  written  a   fiftieth  part  as  much  or  as  well ;   they 
seldom  or  never  speak  of  him — aware  that  if  they  did, 
no  attention  would  be  paid  to  what  they  might  say 
in   his  favour.     With  the  exception  of  a  review  of 
*  Swear  Not,'  by  Dr.  Maculloch  the  geologist,  a  re- 
view of  Mr.  Humphreys  by  the  philosopher  himself, 
a  reply  to  the  Edinburgh  Review  on  the  subject  of 
the  Rationale  of  Evidence,  and  another,  on  that  of 
the  greatest-happiness  principle,  I  do  not  remember 
that  Mr.  Bentham  is  ever  mentioned  in  the  West- 
minster Review.     Like  Mr.  Mill,  the  author  of  Bri- 
tish India,  who  is  indebted  to  Mr.  Bentham  for  the 
very  groundwork,  and  for  the   best  part  of  the  ma- 
terials of  his  own  reputation,  having  borrowed  large- 
ly from  him   in  almost  every  chapter  of  that  very 
work,  and  the  whole  of  what  concerns  the  trial  of 
Warren   Hastings,   without  acknowledgment,  (9) — 
most  of  those  writers  are  too  politic  and  selfish  to 
do  justice   to  a  benefactor,  where  it  could  only  be 
done  by  betraying  themselves.     Were  they  to  send 
others  to  the  mine,  out  of  the  very  dust  of  which 
they  have  gathered  enough  to  make  them  not  only 
rich,  but   celebrated   over  Europe,   what  would  be- 

(9)  The  reader  who  is  familiar  with  Mr.  Bentham's  writings  may  be  refer- 
red also  to  the  articles  in  the  supplement  to  the  Encyclopedia  Brittanica,  on 
Government,  Jurisprudence,  Colonies,  the  Laws  of  Nations,  and  Prisons  and 
Prison-Discipline,  by  Mr.  Mill,  reviewed  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No. 
XCVII.  He  will  be  astonished  to  see  how  little  of  what  is  good  belongs  to 
the  supposed  author,  (Mr.  Mill)  how  much  to  the  unsuspected  author,  Jeremy 
Bentham . 


18  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

come  of  their  reputation  ?  They  are  now  at  the 
head  of  the  severe  and  original  thinkers  of  the  age. 
Were  they  to  do  themselves  and  their  preceptor  jus- 
tice— had  they  time  to  look  after  the  renown  or  the 
welfare  of  that  man  wrho  has  literally  been  feeding 
them  for  years — feeding  not  only  their  minds  with 
the  very  wisdom  and  strength  for  which  they  are  ce- 
lebrated, where  they  are  celebrated  at  all,  but  their 
very  bodies  with  food;  nineteen  twentieths  of  their 
glory  as  original-thinkers  would  depart  from  them, 
whatever  might  be  the  augmentation  of  another  sort 
of  glory,  that  which  relates  to  the  kindlier  and  more 
generous  nature  of  man.  Their  heads  might  lose  more 
than  their  hearts  would  gain. 

And  as  for  the  more  popular  writers  of  the  day, 
who  have  attempted  to  give  the  public  a  notion  of  the 
philosophy,  the  character,  the  mind,  or  even  the  per- 
sonal appearance  of  the  sage,  there  is  not  one — I  say 
it  seriously  and  advisedly — not  one  that  ever  knew 
him,  nor  more  than  two  or  three  who  had  ever  seen 
him,  or  so  much  as  read  a  list  of  his  works.  To  pass 
over  a  writer  in  the  North  American  Review,  for 
January  1828,  who  was  led  astray  by  the  general 
error  (which  the  editor  has  now  an  opportunity  of 
correcting,)  Major  Parry,  Hazlitt,  the  author  of  La- 
con,  (the  Rev.  C.  C.  Colton,)  and  the  Rev.  Sydney 
Smith,  of  the  Edinburgh,  may  be  mentioned  as  par- 
ticularly distinguished  for  what  they  have  said,  with- 
out any  knowledge  of  either,  about  the  behaviour 
and  the  appearance,  or  the  works  and  the  philoso- 
phy, of  Mr.  Bentham. 

Parry,  whose  laughable  account  of  him  used  to  de- 
light Byron  so  much,  no  part  whereof  was  absolutely 
true,  though  in  every  part  there  was  a  something  like 
the  truth  you  see  in  a  broad  caricature,  dined  with 
Mr.  Bentham  once,  and  but  once.  And  Mr.  Hazlitt 
hired  a  house  of  him  (the  rent  of  which  he  never  paid), 
overlooking  the  beautiful  garden,  where  the  philoso- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  19 

pher  used  to  run  about  with  his  venerable  hair  and 
quaker  coat  flapping  in  the  wind.  I  mention  the  fact 
about  the  rent,  because  I  do  in  my  heart  believe  that 
Hazlitt,  who  values  himself  on  being  a  good  hater, 
would  have  loved  Mr.  Bentham,  if  he  had  been  al- 
lowed to  occupy  the  house  forever,  rent-free.  Yet 
were  you  to  judge  by  the  confident  ease  of  the  bio- 
grapher, you  would  believe  he  had  been  familiar  with 
Mr.  Bentham  almost  from  their  boyhood  up  ;  but  he 
never  spoke  with  him,  I  believe,  and  probably  never 
saw  him  in  his  life  except  from  a  two-pair-of-stairs 
window  overlooking  the  garden  alluded  to.  He  has 
published  two  different  portraits  of  Mr.  Bentham,  both 
of  which  were  evidently  prepared  with  seriousness, 
and  published  to  the  world  for  truth — and  truth  too  of 
the  writer's  own  knowledge.  But  Mr.  Hazlitt  is  still  a 
painter,  (10)  and  a  painter  too,  not  from  life,  but  from 
others.  He  dares  not  "  look  nature  in  the  face,"  how- 
ever beautifully  he  may  talk  of  the  advantage  to  be 
hoped  from  so  studying  her.  (11)  To  show  the  value 
of  these  pretended  portraits,  and  with  what  impunity 
anything  may  be  said  of  Jeremy  Bentham,  even  to  his 
next-door  neighbours,  I  would  refer  to  what  Mr.  Haz- 
litt has  ventured  to  publish  of  the  general  character 
of  his  mind — for  he  declares  that  Mr.  Bentham  has 
made  *  no  discovery,'  and  that  he  is  therefore  only 
a  sort  of  labour-saving  machine  to  '  show  what  others 
had  done  before  him,  and  how  far  human  knowledge 
had  advanced  :'  When  the  truth  of  the  matter  is  that 
the  character  of  Mr.  Bentham's  mind  is  so  decidedly 
and  amazingly  original,  that  every  body  with  whom 
he  ever  held  fellowship,  and  all  that  have  ever  studied 
his  works,  are  distinguished  by  their  originality,  if  by 
nothing  more  ;  and  that  he  has  never  written  a  page 

(10)  Mr.  H.  originally  betook  himself  to  painting,  and  made  at  least  one 
capital  copy  in  the  Louvre,  which  was  bought  by  Hay  den,  the  painter,  at  a 
large  price,  and  I  believe  paid  for  at  £50. 

(11)  Hazlitt's  Table  Talk. 


20  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

— no,  not  one  page — without  leaving  a  new  chart  for 
others  to  steer  by,  nor  without  making  what  are  as 
much  entitled  to  be  regarded  as  discoveries,  by  every 
succeeding  navigator,  as  were  those  of  Cook,  after  he 
had  approached  the  unvisited  isles  of  the  Pacific — the 
vast  overpeopled  solitudes  of  a  new  sea.     Yet  Mr. 
Bentham  is  not  so  remarkable  for  invention — for  dis- 
covery in  the  seed,  as  for  originality  in  pursuing  and 
developing  a  subject ;  in  bringing  the  seed  to  maturi- 
ty.    A  hint  with  him,  as  with  Christopher  Columbus, 
may  lead  to  the  discovery  of  worlds — yea  of  many 
worlds  in  that  universe  of  thought,  which  after  having 
been  explored  for  centuries  added  to  centuries,  by  the 
mightiest  among  men,  the  very  giants  of  the  earth, 
still  remains  what  it  was  at  the  beginning,  a  Universe 
of  Thought,  where  all  that  we  know  is  like  our  know- 
ledge of  the  Deity — a  sublime  faith,  a  magnificent 
hope.    To  originality  in  the  vulgar  sense  of  the  word, 
there  may  be  nothing  but  a  very  questionable  title 
now,  for  any  body  to  hope  for.     Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
above  a  hundred  and  forty  years  ago,  conjectured  that 
diamonds  were  charcoal.     It  has  lately  been  disco- 
vered that  they  are  so.     But  of  what  value  was  the 
conjecture  to  those  who  set  about  the  proof?    Did 
it   assist  them  in  their  labour  ?     Did  it  abridge  the 
process  of  enquiry  ?     Did  it  serve  to  assure,  to  en- 
courage, or  to  lead  them  a  single  step  on  their  way  ? 
The  principle  is  the  same   every  where,   and  with 
every  body.  (12)     The  most  of  Jeremy  Bentham's 

(12)  Why  do  we  ascribe  to  Adam  Smith  the  discovery  of  what  political 
economists  have  agreed  to  call  the  division  of  labour  ?  Is  it  that  the  idea  ori- 
ginated with  him  ?  No — for  it  did  not.  As  long  ago  as  1824,  after  Smith  had 
enjoyed  the  reputation  of  a  discoverer  for  nearly  twenty-five  years,  Lord  Lau- 
derdale  showed  by  a  passage  from  Xenophon  that  he  understood  the  advan- 
tages of  that  very  division  of  labour,  even  in  the  business  of  cookery,  and  by 
another  from  Harris's  Essay  on  Money  and  Coins,  that  he  was  apparently  mas- 
ter of  the  whole  subject.  And  since  Lauderdale,  a  French  writer,  the  indefa- 
tigable J.  B.  Say,  in  his  note,  upon  the  cours  d'  economic  politique  of  Mr. 
Henry  Storchi,  has  shown  that  Plato  understood  and  reasoned  upon  the  subject 
of  a  division  of  labour,  in  his  Republick,  and  that  Beccaria,  in  his  Course  of 
Political  Economy,  and  Turgot,  in  his  Reflexions  sur  la  formation  et  la  dis- 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  21 

works,  if  not  altogether  original,  are  as  much  so  as  any 
works  of  man  ever  were  ;  and  of  themselves  may  be 
regarded  with  soberness  and  truth,  as  the  greatest  dis- 
coveries ever  yet  made  in  morals  and  legislation.  But, 
nevertheless,  if  you  go  through  them  one  by  one,  link 
by  link,  you  find  them  to  have  originated  afar  off,  in 
a  casual  enquiry,  brought  about  in  his  youth  by  a 
casual  hint,  which  but  for  him,  would  have  been,  or 
might  have  been,  overlooked  forever  by  the  rest  of  the 
world.  So  with  Columbus — so  with  Newton — so  with 
Bacon.  The  principles  of  truth  are  the  germs  of  all 
knowledge.  They  are  not  to  be  invented  ;  they  are 
to  be  discovered.  But  a  discoverer  not  being  an  in- 
ventor, is  not  regarded  by  the  world,  as  an  original  or 
originating  genius. 

But  leaving  the  subject  of  Mr.  Bentham's  mind,  as 
well  as  that  of  the  general  character  of  his  works,  of 
which  it  is  not  to  be  presumed  that  Mr.  Hazlitt  could 
judge,  let  us  follow  Mr.  H.  a  step  or  two  farther,  and 
observe  how  he  speaks  of  that,  which  as  a  popular 
and  very  beautiful  and  spirited  magazine-purveyor  of 
the  day,  would  naturally  lie  within  the  sphere  of  his 
knowledge.  The  opening — the  very  first  paragragh, 
in  the  biographical  notice  of  Mr.  Bentham,  which  ap- 
peared in  the  Spirit  of  the  Age,  Mr.  Hazlitt's  third 
attempt  at  telling  the  truth,  contains  the  following 
passage :  "  We  believe  that  the  empress  Katherine 
corresponded  with  him;  and  we  know  that  the  empe- 
ror Alexander  called  upon  him,  and  presented  him 
with  his  miniature  in  a  gold  snuff  box,  which  the  phi- 
losopher to  his  eternal  honour  returned."  Observe  the 

tribution  des  richesses  (p.  3,  4,  50,  62,  66,  and  67)  were  familiar  with  its  de- 
tails. Yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  Adam  Smith  is  everywhere  looked  upon 
as  the  discoverer.  And  why  ?  Parceque  ces  auteurs  se  bornent  ;\  montrer  que 
la  division  du  travail  contribue  a  la  perfection  de  1'ouvrage  :  or  cette  observa- 
tion se  presente  d'elle-meme,  et  elle  ne  conduit  guPre  a  des  consequences  im- 
portantes.  Smith  au  contraire,  a  detnontr,;,  que  la  division  ne  perfectionne  pas 
senlement  le  produitdu  travail,  mais  qtfelle  raugmente  encore  a  un point 
etonnant,  et  que  c'est  la  son  principal  avantage,  puisque  par  la  elle  de- 
dent  la  source  de  I'abondance  de  tous  les  produits  du  travail. 


22  JEREMY    BE.NTHAM. 

language  here.  We  believe  this  thing ;  but  we  know 
that.  Now  the  fact  is,  that  neither  happens  to  be 
true.  Mr.  Bentham  corresponded  so  far,  not  with 
Katherine,  but  with  Alexander  of  Russia,  as  to  re- 
ceive a  letter  from  him  with  a  diamond-ring  of  great 
price,  by  the  minister  of  that  monarch  at  London — 
the  letter  he  kept,  the  ring  he  returned.  One  other 
fact — a  trifle  to  be  sure  in  itself, — but  worth  refer- 
ring to,  when  regarded  as  the  deliberate  testimony  of 
a  man  who  professes  to  know  the  person  he  speaks 
of  so  familiarly: — On  the  sixth  page,  he  calls  the  eye 
of  Mr.  Benlham  a  lack-lustre-eye :  on  the  very  next 
page,  however,  the  seventh — he  speaks  of  it  as  a 
"  quick  and  lively  eye,  and  a  restless  eye" — all  which 
is  eminently  characteristic  of  the  showy,  clever,  slap- 
dash magazine-writer,  who  made  up  the  "  Spirit  of 
the  Age"  for  the  amusement  of  the  public,  and  the 
profit  of  a  publisher,  without  any  regard  to  the  great 
purposes  of  biography. 

With  the  Rev.  Mr.  Colton,  the  author  of  Babylon 
the  Great,  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith  of  the  Edinburgh 
Review,  certainly  one  of  the  shrewdest  and  plea- 
santest  writers  of  the  age,  and  a  few  more,  I  shall 
not  now  take  up  the  reader's  time.  They  will  be 
found  in  the  preliminary  chapter  on  Utility. 

Were  I  called  upon  to  give  the  character  of  Mr. 
Bentham  in  a  few  words,  without  entering  into  de- 
tail, I  should  speak  of  him  as  the  most  child-like,  and 
at  the  same  time  one  of  the  wisest  and  best,  and 
therefore  one  of  the  greatest  of  God's  creatures ;  a 
man  whom  it  were  impossible  to  know  without  lov- 
ing and  revering  him  ;  whose  errors — and  with  all  his 
goodness  and  greatness,  even  he  is  not  exempt  either 
from  errors  of  opinion  or  of  conduct — are  no  part  of 
his  philosophy,  whatever  they  may  be  of  his  humanity. 
Having  done  this,  I  should  try  to  run  a  parallel  be- 
tween him  and  Hobbes ;  for  in  the  grander  as  well  as 
in  the  smaller  features  of  both,  in  their  strength  as 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  23 

well  as  in  their  weakness,  they  are  alike;  though  the 
philosopher  of  our  day,  having  always  been  occupied 
with  the  chief  business  of  the  world,  Utility,  may  be 
regarded  as  altogether  and  immeasurably  superior  to 
the  great  author  of  the  Leviathan.  The  resemblance 
may  now  be  mentioned  in  a  general  way ;  but  here- 
after when  the  reader  is  made  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Bentham,  as  one  man  is  with  another  about  a  supper- 
table,  or  at  a  lunch  under  the  green  trees  in  the  open 
air — I  do  not  say  about  a  dinner-table ;  for  two  men 
will  be  better  acquainted  after  talking  five  minutes  to- 
gether by  the  way-side,  over  a  mug  of  beer  and  a  bit 
of  bread-and-cheese,  than  at  half  a  dozen  formal  din- 
ner-parties,— I  shall  refer  to  the  particular  features 
wherein  they  so  resemble  each  other. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  however  to  mention  here,  that 
a  thousand  extraordinary  stories  are  in  circulation 
about  Mr.  Bentham  in  his  very  neighbourhood,  which 
have  no  foundation  whatever  in  truth ;  and  that  a 
multitude  more,  which  may  be  had  on  authority, 
with  names,  dates  and  witnesses,  every  day  in  the 
year  among  those  who  do  not  live  a  stone's-throw 
from  the  hermitage — though  like  the  truth,  are  still  so 
untrue,  as  to  make  it  wonderful  that  they  should  ever 
be  repeated  by  any  body  of  character;  much  more 
that  they  should  be,  as  they  are,  generally  believed 
by  the  first  men  of  the  day,  and  gravely  repeated  in 
the  newspapers,  journals,  and  reviews  of  the  day,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  books. 

The  truth  is  undoubtedly  strange  enough,  and  laugh- 
able enough  sometimes;  but  never — no  never — had  I 
been  so  lucky  as  to  hear  any  thing  like  the  truth,  be- 
fore I  had  an  opportunity  of  judging  for  myself,  about 
the  behaviour,  temper,  general  appearance  or  general 
character  of  Mr.  Bentham.  It  was  believed  by  many, 
— it  is  now,  even  by  the  Quarterly  and  Edinburgh  Re- 
viewers, that  he  is  the  head  of  a  dangerous  and  power- 
ful party,  who  gather  together  by  deputation  at  his  house 


24  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

from  every  part  of  the  globe — holding  a  sort  of  con- 
gress, where  all  the  turbulent  and  fiery  spirits  of  Eu- 
rope and  of  the  two  Americas,  are  literally  represented. 
But  the  truth  is  that  Mr.  Bentham  belongs  to  no  par- 
ty, though  he  is  claimed  by  the  Radicals  of  England 
as  their  chief,  on  account  of  his  parliamentary  reform- 
bill,  and  his  great  influence  with  the  head-reformers 
of  the  law.  The  rest  of  the  story  grew  out  of  the 
fact  perhaps,  that  Aaron  Burr,  the  shipwrecked  Cassar 
of  America,  found  a  refuge  with  our  philosopher, 
when  he  had  no  other  place  on  earth  to  lay  his  head ; 
that  whenever  a  distinguished  statesman  or  political 
reformer  of  Europe  is  driven  abroad  from  his  country 
by  the  convulsions  there,  he  generally  goes  to  Eng- 
land, where  the  very  first  person  he  asks  after — for 
no  other  Englishman  is  thought  so  much  of  or  talked 
so  much  of,  on  the  continent — is  Jeremy  Bentham ; 
and  that  a  few  of  his  more  youthful  and  more  zealous 
disciples  were  in  the  habit  of  assembling  together  at 
his  house,  in  the  year  U525-6,  for  debate  and  consul- 
tation among  themselves.  But,  although  they  did 
this  for  above  a  twelvemonth,  he  never  met  with  them, 
nor  was  it  expected  of  him  ;  and  of  their  whole  num- 
ber not  more  than  half  perhaps  had  ever  interchanged 
a  word  with  him.  And  as  for  the  deputies  from  the 
disaffected  of  all  Europe,  I  am  sure  that  nobody  was 
ever  able  to  obtain  a  sight  of  him,  for  nearly  two 
years  that  we  were  acquainted,  without  more  delay 
and  more  difficulty  than  would  have  stood  in  the 
path  of  a  presentation  to  half  the  crowned-heads  of 
Europe.  I  have  known  him  refuse  to  see  a  Russian 
counseller  of  state  who  had  come  to  London  chiefly, 
if  not  altogether,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  him,  and 
I  might  mention  a  multitude  more.  Mr.  Bowring 
the  poet,  told  me  himself,  that  he  was  trying  for  more 
than  a  twelvemonth  before  he  succeeded ;  and  for  my 
part,  1  can  say  that  I  was  above  a  year  in  England, 
without  knowing  any  body  but  Mr.  Owen  of  Lanark, 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  25 

and  a  Mrs.  Wheeler,  the  Mary  Wolstencraft  of  our 
day,  who  had  ever  seen  the  face  of  that  extraordinary 
man. 

Two  other  stories  may  be  mentioned,  which  are 
generally,  I  might  say  universally,  received  there. 
I  wonder  you  were  not  afraid  to  go  near  him,  said  a 
superior  female  to  me,  having  heard  that  Mr.  Bent- 
ham  had  offered  me  an  interview.  Why  so,  madam? 
Ah  you  have  no  idea  of  his  character,  said  she;  the 
queerest  old  man  alive.  One  of  his  most  intimate 
friends  told  me  not  long  ago,  that  he  was  undoubt- 
edly deranged;  for  he  keeps  a  number  of  young  men 
to  follow  him  about,  and  pick  up  what  they  call  his 
sibylline  leaves, — leaves  upon  which  he  had  scribbled 
in  characters  that  nobody  but  they  who  had  gone 
through  a  long  apprenticeship  to  the  work,  might 
ever  hope  to  decypher,  and  which  he  scatters  about 
him  to  the  right  and  left  in  his  post-prandial  vibra- 
tions. (13)  I  believe  that  is  the  phrase  for  his  after- 
dinner-walk  in  the  ditch.  I  laughed ;  but  that  was 
all — I  durst  not  contradict  the  story;  for  I  already 
knew  enough  of  the  "strange  old  man"  to  perceive 
some  truth  in  it;  and  how  could  I  know  that  any  part 
was  untrue?  But  I  was  very  soon  afterwards  able 
to  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other.  I  do  not  know, 
but  I  should  suspect  Mr.  Bentham's  old  friend,  Dr. 
Macullochthe  geologist,  of  the  story;  so  untrue  is  it, 
and  still  so  like  the  truth:  for  Mr. Bentham  does  keep 
two  secretaries  constantly  employed  in  deciphering 
his  abominable  manuscript,  and  with  the  one  or  the 
other  he  is  always  seen  when  he  goes  to  take  his 
trot  in  that  large  and  beautiful  garden  of  his,  which 
borders  a  part  of  St.  James's  Park. 

At  another  time  I  was  assured,  on  authority,  that 
not  long  before,  one  of  the  British-cabinet  having 
dropped  a  line  to  him  to  enquire  about  a  provision 

(13)  See  Ode  to  the  Goddess  Ceres,  in  Odes  on  Cash,  Corn,  and  Catholics, 
by  Moore. 

4 


26  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

recommended  by  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  he  wrote  a 
book  in  reply.  This  was  a  capital  story,  to  be  sure — 
but  like  the  story  told  by  Hazlitt,  of  the  miniature 
offered  to  Bentham  by  Alexander  of  Russia:  though 
there  was  some  truth  in  it,  there  was  so  much  un- 
truth, as  to  spoil  it.  At  the  time  alluded  to,  Mr. 
Bentham  had  never  had  any  correspondence  with 
the  British  ministry,  except  about  hjs  Panopticon, 
where  the  government  were  told  in  a  few  brief  and 
powerful  words,  that  they  had  broken  their  faith,  and 
ruined  a  man  for  trusting  to  it ;  and  to  the  value  of  a 
page  or  so  with  Mr.  Canning,  to  obtain  the  release 
of  a  man  who  had  literally  insinuated  himself  into  a 
French  prison,  by  pretending  to  know  more  than  he 
ever  did,  or  ever  could  know  about  the  disorganized 
patriots  of  Europe.  I  allude  to  Mr.  Bowring.  But 
after  this,  Mr.  Bentham  had  a  somewhat  lengthy 
— I  like  the  word  here — a  somewhat  lengthy  corre- 
spondence with  Mr.  Peel,  touching  his  celebrated  re- 
form and  consolidation  of  the  statutes  ;  and  is  now  in 
regular  correspondence  with  the  British  ministry  on 
the  subject  of  Lawr-Reform. 

Of  other  and  similar  stories  a  book  might  be  made; 
but  these  are  enough.  And  now  before  we  go  to  the 
familiar  facts  which  are  to  be  laid  before  the  reader, 
it  may  not  be  amiss  to  give  a  summary  view  of  the 
labours  of  our  author — leaving  their  merit  and  pecu- 
liar character  to  be  treated  of  at  large,  under  a  dif- 
rent  head  hereafter. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  27 


CHAPTER    II. 


GENERAL.       VIEW       OF     HIS       WORKS. 

JEREMY  BEI^HAM  is  now  in  his  eighty-third  year. 
While  he  was  yet  a  young  man,  he  distinguished  him- 
self by  a  masterly  attack  on  Blackstone's  Commenta- 
ries. (14)  It  appeared  in  one  volume,  and  was  so 
remarkable  for  beauty  of  style  and  strength  of  argu- 
ment, as  to  be  ascribed  to  the  first  writers  of  the  age 
— and  among  others  to  Lord  Mansfield,  who  used  to 
speak  of  it  in  the  highest  terms. 

Not  long  after  this,  he  took  the  field  on  the  subject 
of  the  hard  labour  bill,  then  before  parliament ;  and 
here  probably  originated  that  unappeasable  spirit  of 
enquiry,  which  for  more  than  half  a  century  has  now 
distinguished  him.  It  was  entitled  A  VIEW  OF  THE 
HARD  LABOUR  BILL  ;  with  observations  relative  to  Pe- 
nal Jurisprudence  in  general.  1778,  8vo.  pp.  144. 

Nine  years  after,  came  forth  his  DEFENCE  OF  USURY, 
at  that  time  regarded  rather  as  a  theological,  than  as 
a  political  question ;  and  in  an  essay  which  never  has 
been  refuted  and  never  will,  though  it  is  very  brief, 
and  a  perfect  model  for  clearness  and  simplicity  of 
style,  he  demonstrated  the  absurdity  of  regulating  the 
interest  of  money  by  law.  From  that  day  to  this,  all 

(14)  Called  a  "Fragment  on  Government;  or  a  Comment  on  the  Com- 
mentaries." It  appeared  in  1776,  when  the  author  was  in  his  twenty-eighth 
year,  in  8vo,  265  pp.  A  new  edition  is  lately  out.  The  MS.  from  which 
M.  Dumont  abstracted  the  Theory  of  Punishment  and  Rewards,  was  written 
yet  earlier — in  1775,  when  the  author  was  only  in  his  twenty-seventh  year. 
When  Blackstone  was  asked  if  he  meant  to  reply  to  the  Fragment,  he  said 
"  no — not  even  if  it  was  better  written."  But  though  he  made  no  answer  to  it, 
nor  any  mention  of  it  by  name,  he  did  not  altogether  refrain  from  noticing 
it.  In  the  prefar.e  to  the  following  edition  of  the  work,  there  were  allusions 
to  it.  Suppressed  Preface  to  the  last  edition  of  the  Fragment. 


28  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

that  has  ever  been  urged  on  the  same  side,  though 
by  certain  of  the  ablest  writers  and  statesmen  of  Eu- 
rope and  America,  may  be  referred  immediately  and 
directly  to  this  very  essay — so  difficult  was  it  to  say 
any  thing  new,  after  Jeremy  Bentham  had  exhausted 
the  subject. 

In  1789  appeared  the  original  quarto  edition  of* 
MORALS  AND  LEGISLATION,  the  groundwork  of  the  au- 
thor's whole  fame  with  Dr.  Parr  an^others  of  like 
amplitude  and  strength  of  mind.  It  has  lately  been 
repufolished  in  a  more  readable  shape ;  and  may  be 
regarded  as  these  very  principles  in  the  rough,  which 
are  now  submitted  to  the  world.  It  is  not  to  be  de- 
nied that  the  language  is  rather  obscure  ;  that  it  re- 
quires a  painful  degree  of  attention  to  master  it;  that 
as  a  work  it  might  be  greatly  improved ;  and  that  so 
far  as  the  English  and  our  people  are  concerned,  it 
has  been  from  that  day  to  this,  very  shamefully  neg- 
lected; but  nevertheless  I  repeat  what  I  have  said 
before.  It  is  the  JVovum  Orgamim  of  Morals  and  Le- 
gislation. It  contains  the  seeds  and  elements  of  all 
truth  in  these  two  great  sciences — the  greatest  the 
human  mind  was  ever  yet  employed  upon.  Before 
Bentham  wrote,  all  was  chaos  in  the  whole  history 
of  legislation.  But  now  it  is  beginning  to  wear  the 
shape  of  science  ;  and  to  him  we  are  entirely  indebt- 
ed for  this. 

Not  long  after,  followed  the  PANOPTICON,  or  the  IN- 
SPECTION-HOUSE :  containing  the  idea  of  a  new  princi- 
ple of  construction  applicable  to  any  sort  of  establish- 
ment, in  which  persons  of  any  description  are  to  be 
kept  under  inspection  ;  and  in  particular  to  penitentia- 
ry houses,  prisons,  houses  of  industry,  work-houses, 
poor-houses,  manufactories,  mad-houses,  lazarettos, 
hospitals,  and  schools  :  with  a  plan  of  management 
adapted  to  the  principle — 1791.  These  are  the  cele- 
brated letters  on  the  subject  of  Prisons  and  Prison  Dis- 
cipline, to  which  Europe  and  America  are  chiefly  in- 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  29 

debtcd  for  the  improvements  made  during  the  last  half 
century  in  the  structure  of  prisons  and  treatment  of  pri- 
soners, and  all  this  without  any  acknowledgment  in 
favour  of  the  author — our  Prison-Discipline-Society 
of  Boston,  among  the  rest.  If  they  would  look  into 
Bentham,  they  would  find  that  most  of  their  discove- 
ries and  suggestions,  and  hopes  and  views  originated 
with  him  ;  that  he  was  ahead  of  them  half  a  century 
ago  in  the  besj^part  of  their  plan  ;  and  that  if  they 
would,  they  might  have  their  mistakes  rectified,  and 
their  deficiencies  supplied,  by  a  paragraph  or  two  bor- 
rowed here  and  there,  out  of  his  Panopticon.  This 
work  received  so  much  attention,  that  a  bill  was 
brought  into  parliament,  and  the  appropriation  was 
actually  made  under  the  administration  of  Mr.  Pitt, 
for  carrying  the  project  into  full  operation.  But, 
owing  to  a  personal  grudge  on  the  part  of  the  reign- 
ing monarch  against  Bentham  for  a  review  of  one  of 
his  majesty's  papers,  he,  George  the  Third,  would  not 
sign  the  order  for  the  money,  and  the  affair  dropped 
•through.  And  just  so  it  was  in  France — there  an  ap- 
propriation was  made  ;  but  the  breaking  out  of  the 
revolutionary  war  put  a  stop  to  the  erection  of  the 
buildings.  And  so  in  Spain.  While  that  country  was 
under  the  sway  of  the  Cortes,  large  appropriations 
were  made  for  the  same  purpose ;  but  change  follow- 
ed change,  and  the  money,  if  it  was  ever  collected, 
which  is  doubtful,  was  diverted  into  other  channels 
more  immediately  affecting  the  safety  of  the  state. 

To  these  succeeded  the  following  works,  in  the 
order  mentioned  below. 

DRAUGHT  OF  A  CODE  FOR  THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  THE 
JUDICIAL  ESTABLISHMENT  IN  FRANCE  :  with  critical  ob- 
servations on  the  draught  proposed  by  the  National 
Assembly  Committee,  in  the  form  of  a  perpetual  com- 
mentary— 1790 — 91.  8vo.  242  pages,  very  closely 
printed.  This  work  is  one  of  Mr.  Bentham's  mas- 
terpieces ;  eloquent  and  powerful,  and  clear  as  ever 


30  JEREMY    BENTHAM. 

language  was.  Mr.  Mill,  the  father,  has  borrowed 
largely  from  it  in  his  capital  Essay  on  Jurisprudence, 
in  the  Supplement  to  the  Encyclopedia  Brittanica.(l  5.) 

ESSAY  ON  POLITICAL  TACTICS  :  containing  six  of  the 
principal  Rules  proper  to  be  observed  by  a  political 
assembly,  in  the  process  of  forming  a  decision  :  with 
the  reasons  on  which  they  are  grounded  ;  and  a  com- 
parative application  of  them  to  British  and  French 
practice  :  being  a  fragment  of  a  Iarge4n^brk;  a  sketch 
of  which  is  subjoined,  1791,  4to.  pp.  (54.  A  very 
significant  though  brief  essay,  out  of  which  and  some 
others  on  the  same  subject,  M.  Dumont  afterwards 
produced  a  French  work,  in  two  large  vols.  8vo. 

SUPPLY  WITHOUT  BURTHEN  ;  or  Escheat  vice  Taxa- 
tion :  published  with  1st  Edition  of  Protest  against 
Law  Taxes,  1796,  small  8vo.  or  12  mo. 

EMANCIPATE  YOUR  COLONIES  :  An  address  by  the  au- 
thor to  the  National  Assembly  of  France,  whose  pre- 
decessors had  made  him  a  French  citizen  ;  a  power- 
ful and  beautifully-written  pamphlet  in  favour  of  Free 
Trade,  1793,  8vo.  pp.  48. 

PAUPER  MANAGEMENT  :  a  Letter  on  the  SITUATION 
AND  RELIEF  OF  THE  POOR  ;  addressed  to  Mr.  Arthur 
Young  (to  whose  journal  he  was  a  contributor  at  the 
time  of  the  newspaper  controversy  with  George  the 
Third,  which  led  to  the  refusal  of  the  king  to  sign  the 
order  mentioned  in  page  29),  editor  of  the  Annals  of 
Agriculture,  and  published  in  that  work,  1797,  8vo. 
pp.  288  ;  with  tables. 

LETTERS  TO  LORD  PELHAM,  &.c.  &c.  &c.,  Giving  a 
comparative  view  of  the  system  of  penal  coloniza- 
tion in  New  South-Wales,  and  the  home-penitentiary 
system  prescribed  by  two  acts  of  parliament  of  the 
years  1794  and  1799  ;  viz.  in  consequence  of  an  ac- 
ceptance given  to  a  proposal  of  the  author's,  ground- 

(15)  Reviewed  by  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No. 
XCVII.  Controversy  continued  in  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  XCVIII.  and 
XCIX. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  31 

ed  on  the  plan  delineated  in  the  Panopticon  as  above, 
(page  28).    1802,  8vo. 

PLEA  FOR  THE  CONSTITUTION,  1803  :  written  in  con- 
tinuation of  the  above. 

SCOTCH  REFORM,  compared  with  English  Non-Re- 
form :  in  a  series  of  letters  to  Lord  Grenville,  1806, 
8vo.  pp.  100,  closely  printed  :  relative  to  the  judicial 
establishment  of  Scotland  and  England. 

ELEMENTS  OF.  THE  ART  OF  PACKING,  as  applied  to 
Special  Juries:  particularly  in  cases  of  libel-law,  8vo. 
pp.  269,  printed  1810,  published  1821. 

"  SWEAR  NOT  AT  ALL  ;"  containing  an  exposure  of 
the  needlessness  and  mischievousness,  as  well  as  anti- 
Christianity  of  the  ceremony  of  an  oath  :  with  proof 
of  the  abuses  of  it,  especially  in  the  University  of  Ox- 
ford, printed  1813  :  published  1817,  pp.  97. 

TABLE  OF  SPRINGS  OF  ACTION:  printed  anno  1815  : 
published  anno  1817,  8vo. 

DEFENCE  OF  ECONOMY  against  Edmund  Burke :  (writ- 
ten 1810)  published  in  the  Pamphleteer,  No.  XVI. 
January  1817,  8vo.  pp.  47. 

DEFENCE  OF  ECONOMY  against  the  Right  Honoura- 
ble George  Rose:  (written  1810)  published  in  the 
Pamphleteer,  No.  XVIII.  January  1817,  pp.  52. 

CHRESTOMATHIA,  Part  I.  explanatory  of  a  proposed 
school  for  the  extension  of  the  new  system  of  instruc- 
tion to  the  higher  branches  of  learning,  for  the  use 
of  the  middling  and  higher  ranks  of  life,  1816,  8vo. 
Part.  II.  being  an  essay  on  nomenclature  and  classifi- 
cation :  including  a  critical  examination  of  the  En- 
cyclopedical table  of  Lord  Bacon,  as  improved  by 
D'Alembert,  1817.  With  tables. 

PLAN  OF  PARLIAMENTARY  REFORM,  with  reasons  for 
each  article:  and  an  introduction,  showing  the  neces- 
sity of  radical,  and  the  inadequacy  of  moderate  reform, 
1817. 

Papers  relative  to  CODIFICATION  and  PUBLIC  IN- 
STRUCTION :  including  correspondence  with  the  Em- 


32  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

peror  Alexander,  and  the  President  and  divers  other 
constituted  authorities  of  the  American  United-States, 
1817,  8vo. 

CHURCH-OF-ENGLANDISM  and  its  Catechism  examin- 
ed :  preceded  by  strictures  on  the  exclusionary  sys- 
tem, as  pursued  in  the  National  Society's  Schools: 
interspersed  with  parallel  views  of  the  English  and 
Scottish  established  churches :  and  concluding  with 
remedies  proposed  for  abuses  indicated  :  and  an  exa- 
mination of  the  parliamentary  system  of  church  re- 
form lately  pursued,  and  still  pursuing : — including 
the  proposed  new  churches,  pp.  794,  mostly  very 
closely  printed. 

Observations  on  the  RESTRICTIVE  AND  PROHIBITORY 
COMMERCIAL  SYSTEM,  especially  with  reference  to  the 
decree  of  the  Spanish  Cortes  of  July  1820.  "  Leave 
us  alone."  From  the  MSS.  of  Jeremy  Bentham,  Esq. 
By  John  Bowring. 

In  addition  to  these — and  it  may  be  well  enough  to 
observe  here  that  the  SPRINGS  OF  ACTION  and  CHRES- 
TOMATHIA,  are  the  two  greatest,  after  the  MORALS 
AND  LEGISLATION — there  are  a  considerable  number 
of  works  published  anonymously  or  under  fictitious 
names,  of  which  Mr.  Bentham  was  the  originator 
and  author. 

THE  BOOK  OF  FALLACIES,  edited  by  Mr.  Bingham, 
the  law  reporter,  and  editor  of  the  Parliamentary  Re- 
gister and  Review,  8vo.  pp.  400 ; — a  very  satisfac- 
tory and  liberal  review  of  which,  by  the  Rev.  Syd- 
ney Smith,  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No. 
LXXXIV. 

Analysis  of  the  INFLUENCE  OF  NATURAL  RELIGION  : 
published  by  Richard  Carlisle,  in  1822  ;  and  issued 
under  the  name  of  Philip  Beauchamp.  Undoubtedly 
a  very  able  work  ;  though  intended  to  prove  that  all 
religions  are  the  growth  of  uncertainty,  perplexity 
and  fear,  and  all  alike  unworthy  of  regard.  (16.) 

(16)     The  hints  were  borrowed  from  Helvetius,  of  whom  hereafter. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION,  S3 

From  what  I   know  of  Mr.  Bentham,  I   have  no 
doubt  of  his  being  an  atheist.     I  have  been   told  so, 
by  those  who  know  him ;    a  good  many  of  his  more 
youthful  followers  are  so: — if  they  themselves  may  be 
credited  ;  and  though  we  had  never  had  any  conversa- 
tion together  that  satisfied  me,  still,  as  I  have  said  be- 
fore. I  have  no  doubt  of  his  being  an  atheist.     And  I 
mention  this  here,  that  I  may  not  be  charged  with 
blindness  to  what  I  look  upon  as  not  only  the  greatest, 
but  as  the  only  great  error  of  that  man's  faith.     Not 
that  he  believes  there  is  no  God — I  do  not  say  so  :  but 
he  is  not  thoroughly  satisfied  I  believe,  that  there  is  a 
God.    If  he  would  enquire,  and  it  is  not  even  yet  too 
late,  he  would  perceive  what  he  must  delight  in  hop- 
ing, even  if  it  were  not  proved,  the  existence  of  One 
who  is  emphatically  the  Father  of  such  men  as  he  is. 
Peradventure,  it  is  not  so  much  atheism  after  all,  as 
it  is  a  mistake  with  him.    He  mistakes  the  uncertain- 
ty of  one  fact,  or  rather  a  want  of  mathematical  cer- 
tainty in  one  fact,  for  the  certainty  of  another  fact : 
the  want  of  such  kind  of  mathematical  proof  as  he 
is  habituated  to,  that  there  is  a  God,  for  conclusive 
demonstration  that  there  is  not.     I   know  well  the 
nature  of  his  mind  ;  and  I  do  not  scruple  to  say  that 
I  believe  this.     Not  being  satisfied  as  other  men  are, 
and  not  being  at  leisure  in  his  old  age,  and  just  on 
the  shadowy  and  shifting  threshold  of  another  world, 
to  investigate  the  subject  in  his  own  way ;    and  be- 
ing imbued  with  the    pestiferous,  and    most  unrea- 
sonable doubts  of  a  Frenchman,  who  was  a  believer 
in  Voltaire,  and  the  first  teacher  of  Mr.  Bentham  ; 
and  withal  having  translated   Le  Taureau  Blanc  of 
Voltaire,    without  acknowledging  it, — nor   does   he 
know  to   this  day,  probably,  that  he   was  ever  sus- 
pected of  it ;    and  having  produced  the  work  on  Na- 
tural   Religion,  above-mentioned,  which  was  edited 
by  one  atheist,  and  published  by  another,  (the  infa- 

5 


34  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

mous  Richard  Carlisle  (17  ),  it  cannot  be  expected 
of  him  that  he  should  now  enquire  very  diligently  or 
wisely,  nor  that  his  disciples,  whatever  he  might  do  or 
say  now,  would  be  satisfied.  We  may  be  sorry  for 
such  things,  but  if  they  are  otherwise  good  men,  our 
sorrow  will  lead  us  rather  to  pity  than  to  rage  or 
hatred  for  them.  As  well  might  we  rebuke  those 
who  are  troubled  with  fever,  as  them  that  require  to 
be  convinced  by  touch,  or  taste,  or  ciphering,  of  the 
existence  of  a  Deity.  Why  may  not  men  be  suffered 
to  believe  what  they  please,  or  what  they  can  rather, 
about  God  and  a  future  state,  and  all  the  mysteries  of 
theology,  as  about  any  other  subject  of  dispute  or  en- 
quiry. We  do  not  quarrel  with  men  now  about  their 
belief  touching  wizards,  or  the  motion  of  the  planets, 
or  the  origin  of  the  blacks.  Why  should  we,  about 
their  belief  respecting  their  Father  above  ?  What  I 
say,  I  believe.  I  am  no  atheist — if  I  were,  I  should 
avow  it  in  the  face  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  abide 
the  consequences.  But  to  return  to  the  catalogue. 

Then  appeared  Not  PAUL  BUT  JESUS,  a  book  in  400 
octavo  pages,  with  tables,  sustaining  a  comparison  of 
the  gospels  with  Paul's  epistles,  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  that  "  Two  quite  different,  if  not  opposite 
religions  are  inculcated"  thereby:  that  "in  the  reli- 
gion of  Jesus  may  be  found  all  the  good  that  has  ever 
been  the  result  of  the  compound  so  incongruously  and 
unhappily  made, — in  the  religion  of  Paul,  all  the  mis- 
chief, which,  in  such  disastrous  abundance,  has  so  in- 
disputably flowed  from  it."  1823.  This  work  appear- 
ed under  the  name  of  Gamaliel  Smith,  Esq.,  and  was 
edited  by  a  secretary  of  the  author,  a  very  young 
man. 

To  the  preceding  may  now  be  added  : 

The  OUTLINES  OF  A  NEW  SYSTEM  OF  LOGIC,  pub- 

(17)  I  do  not  call  Richard  Carlisle  infamous  because  he  is  an  atheist,  but 
because  he  has  no  charity,  no  decency  for  those  who  are  not,  and  because  I  do 
not  know  another  so  blind  or  so  desperate  a  mischief-maker. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  35 

lished  in  1826,  8vo.  pp.  287;  from  the  MS.  of  the 
author,  by  his  nephew  Mr.  George  Bentham  : 

A  REVIEW  OF  HUMPHREYS  ON  REAL  PROPERTY, 
in  the  Westminster  Review^No.  XII.  p.  63,  in  the 
unaltered  language  of  the  author  : 

THE  CONSTITUTIONAL  CODE  :  a  magnificent  work, 
only  a  part  of  which  has  been  printed;  being  the  whole 
of  what  every  thing  else  heretofore  published  by  the 
author  has  been  but  a  part: 

The  RATIONALE  OF  EVIDENCE,  in  five  vols.  large 
octavo,  containing  nearly  4000  pages,  edited  by  Mr. 
John  Mill,  and  reviewed  in  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
No.  XCVI. 

PETITIONS  FOR  JUSTICE  AND  CODIFICATION  :  a 
work  in  8vo.  just  published,  and  written  with  a  view 
to  engage  the  people  and  the  ministry  to  work  together. 
It  promises  to  succeed ;  for  the  whole  empire  is  now 
agitated  to  its  foundation,  and  the  government  full  of 
zeal  on  the  subject. 

Simultaneously  with  the  above,  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  works  have  appeared  in  French, — selected  by 
M.  Dumont  of  Geneva  from  a  vast  accumulation  of 
manuscripts  by  Mr.  Bentham;  a  small  part  of  which 
(Theorie  des  Feints  et  des  Recompenses)  were  actu 
ally  written  by  the  author  in  that  language,  and  for 
the  oddest  of  all  reasons  in  the  view  of  an  ordinary 
writer.  He  could  not  find  words  in  English,  where- 
with to  express  himself  clearly  and  unequivocally ; 
and  as  he  knew  that  from  the  imperfection  of  language 
it  never  could  be  otherwise  while  he  lived,  and  while 
the  very  elements  of  the  new  science,  the  very  tools 
thereof,  had  no  name;  he  concluded  to  write — as  he 
would  talk — in  a  foreign  language,  and  leave  for 
others  to  make  what  they  could  of  it  hereafter.  He 
was  overburdened  with  vast  ideas  ;  but  they  were 
not  to  be  communicated  in  the  every-day  language  of 
ordinary  men.  He  had  no  time  to  contrive  a  new 
language ;  and  therefore  he  had  recourse  to  one, 


36  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

which,  though  he  was  well  acquainted  with  it,  he  was 
not  so  severe  a  critic  of,  as  to  be  troubled  with  meta- 
physical misgivings  in  every  paragraph  he  formed,  as 
he  was  while  employed  with  English.  This  very 
reason  I  give  out  of  his  own  mouth. 

After  some  years,  a  clever  Frenchman,  who  had 
been  for  a  while  an  associate  of  Mirabeau,  and  who 
(as  I  have  been  told  by  Mr.  Gallatin,  the  townsman 
of  both)  used  to  write  the  very  speeches  that  Mira- 
beau delivered,  came  to  England,  where  he  got 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Bentham.  These  manuscripts, 
partly  in  French,  and  partly  in  English,  were  thrown 
into  his  hands ;  and  out  of  them  he  has  extracted 
about  ten  large  volumes  of  readable  matter,  which 
but  for  him  would  never  have  been  popular. 

Thus  much  may  be  admitted,  though  M.  Dumont 
himself  says,  and  so  indeed  must  every  body,  who  is 
well  acquainted  with  the  character  of  the  two — the 
one  a  severe  and  imperturbable  thinker,  the  other  a 
mere  rhetorician,  though  a  beautiful  and  striking  wri- 
ter,— that  instead  of  improving  Bentham,  he  has  only 
preserved  a  portion  of  his  unwieldy  greatness — arrang- 
ed a  part  of  his  neglected  wealth — but  added  nothing 
to  what  he  found  lying  in  the  ore — absolutely  no- 
thing. Be  it  so ;  but  his  merit  is  only  secondary 
nevertheless,  to  that  of  the  original  author.  He  has 
coined  that  earth,  which  but  for  him  would  have  been 
overlooked  for  ages, — it  may  be  forever;  he  has  put 
into  circulation,  with  a  stamp  that  makes  it  current 
throughout  the  world,  that  ore,  which,  whatever  were 
its  value  in  fact,  might  as  well  have  remained  forever 
in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  as  be  where  he  found  it — 
and  freighted  himself  with  it  for  the  posterity  of  na- 
tions. But  I  would  not  go  so  far  as  many  do;  I 
should  not  say  that  M.  Dumont  has  added  to  the 
worth  of  the  solid,  weighty,  and  vast  original;  for  M. 
Dumont,  as  I  have  said  before,  though  a  beautiful 
writer,  is  vague,  insecure,  and  showy,  after  the  ap- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  37 

proved  manner  of  Montesquieu,  whose  lively  and  bril- 
liant affectation  passes  with  the  multitude  for  the 
sententiousness  of  a  deep-thinker.  All  that  we  are 
indebted  to  him  is,  for  having  made  his  author  more 
palatable  and  more  popular;  now  by  judiciously  abridg- 
ing, and  now  by  omitting  passages  and  parts,  which 
they  who  know  the  strength  and  significance  of  Bent- 
ham,  would  no  more  part  with  or  give  up,  than  they 
would  part  with  or  give  up  the  brains  of  a  favourite 
author. 

Most  of  the  writings  of  Jeremy  Bentham  which 
have  appeared  since  M.  Dumont  published  the  selec- 
tions alluded  to  above,  are  distinguished  for  strength 
and  simplicity,  though  not  so  much  for  beauty  or 
perspicuity  of  style,  as  were  his  earlier  works ;  yet 
any  one  of  them  would  be  enough  to  show  that  Jere- 
my Bentham,  and  not  M.  Dumont,  is  the  author  of  eve- 
ry profound  and  extraordinary  thought  in  the  whole 
of  the  ten  volumes  edited  by  M.  Dumont ;  and  not 
only  that,  but  the  very  form  and  felicity  of  expression, 
wherever  it  is  remarkable  for  energy  or  directness, 
for  grasp  or  comprehensiveness.  I  would  not  even 
except  the  review  of  Mr.  Humphreys  by  Bentham  in 
the  Westminster  Review,  a  paper  which,  though  it 
contains  more  of  the  author's  peculiarities,  and  more 
of  that  new  language  he  is  twitted  with  being  the 
father  of  (Bcnthamee)  than  any  thing  else  to  be  found 
in  any  of  his  works,  I  would  appeal  to,  if  there  were 
nothing  else  at  hand,  to  show  the  amplitude,  the 
elevation,  the  depth  of  the  writer's  mind.  Allow 
what  we  may  for  the  gossip,  and  the  trifling,  and  the 
strange  words,  and  the  affected  phraseology,  as  it 
would  appear  to  a  reader  of  story-books  or  newspa- 
pers, there  would  still  be  enough  left  to  prove  that  the 
author  was  a  great  man.  Let  me  be  distinctly  un- 
derstood therefore.  We  are  largely  indebted  to  M. 
Dumont;  not  for  improving  Bentham  however,  but 
for  making  him  popular  with  those  who  might  never 


38  JEREMY    BEM'HAM. 

have  read  him,  nor  understood  him  in  his  original 
gothic  redundancy,  severity  and  strength — to  say  all 
in  a  single  word,  for  having  Frenchified  him. 

The  following  are  the  works  referred  to,  by  M.  Du- 
mont,  second  and  third  editions  of  which  have  lately 
been  published  at  Paris. 

1.  TRAITES  DE  LEGISLATION  Civile  et  Penale,  pre- 
cedes de  Principes  Generaux  de  Legislation,  et  d'une 
Vue  d'un  Corps  complet  de  Droits;  termines  par  un 
Essai  sur  ('Influence  des  terns  et  des  lieux  relative- 
ment  aux  lois.     Paris,  1802.     3  tomes. 

2.  THEORIE  DES   PEINES   ET  DES  RECOMPENSES. 
Londres,  1811.     2  tomes. 

3.  ESSAI  SUR  LA  TACTIQUE  DES  ASSEMBLEES  POLI- 
TIQUES.     Geneve,  1816:  ensemble,  sur  les  Sophismes. 

4.  TRAITES  DES    PREUVES    JUDICIAIRES.      Paris, 
1823.     2  tomes. 

But  to  conclude  this  part  of  our  subject.  As  Mr. 
Bentham  grew  older,  he  grew  more  and  more  dissatis- 
fied with  the  inadequacy  of  language,  with  the  want 
of  exactness  in  it ;  and  he  therefore  began  to  prepare 
a  new  system  of  logic  for  himself — a  few  chapters  of 
which  have  lately  been  booked  into  a  readable  shape 
by  his  nephew,  Mr.  George  Bentham,  one  of  the 
most  promising  men  of  the  age,  both  for  acuteness 
and  for  strength.  From  this  he  went  on,  growing 
less  and  less  elegant,  and  to  the  careless  reader,  the 
novel-reader,  or  the  newspaper-reader,  less  and  less 
perspicuous  every  year ;  for  he  went  on  abridging 
volumes  into  chapters,  and  chapters  into  tabular 
views,  till  it  was  impossible  for  any  body  to  under- 
stand him,  who  had  not  gone  step  by  step  through  his 
preliminary  demonstrations  ;  till  at  last  he  came  to  a 
style,  which  cannot  be  defended — such  as  that  of  the 
article  he  wrote  for  the  Westminster  Review.  And 
yet,  though  all  this  may  be  said  of  that  particular  pa- 
per, it  is  due  to  him  and  to  the  public  to  add,  that  as 
he  has  grown  older  he  has  grown  wiser;  that  the  style 


FRINriPl.KS    OF    LKCIISLATION.  39 

referred  to  grows  out  of  his  exceeding  honesty, — for 
he  does  not  allow  himself  to  separate  his  assertions 
from  their  qualifications — so  that  his  periods  are  en- 
cumbered on  every  subject  of  interest;  that  in  ordi- 
nary matters  where  a  newspaper  style  would  do,  no 
man  alive  writes  a  more  off-hand,  free  or  natural  style 
than  Jeremy  Bentham;  and  that — after  all — the  very 
difficulties  we  complain  of,  are  attributable  more  to 
the  subject  handled  by  him,  than  to  the  style  in  which 
they  are  handled;  more  to  the  nature  of  the  science 
treated  of,  than  to  any  thing  else ;  and  that  for  peo- 
ple who  are  not  acquainted  with  his  early  works,  to 
complain  of  all  his  late  works  for  not  being  clear,  is 
about  as  absurd  as  it  would  be  for  a  man  who  had 
never  studied  his  multiplication  table,  to  find  fault 
with  a  treatise  on  fluxions  for  not  being  as  intelligi- 
ble, straight-forward  and  agreeable  as  a  newspaper- 
essay  upon  the  private  character  of  a  political  adver- 
sary. (18) 

(18)  A  friend,  whose  suggestions  are  always  entitled  to  much  respect,  on 
seeing  the  above  paragraph,  sent  the  author  a  note,  which,  as  it  clearly  express- 
es what  a  majority  of  readers  may  think,  and  is  therefore  worthy  of  some  re- 
ply, he  has  thought  proper  to  publish  below,  with  his  reasons  for  not  yielding 
to  the  suggestion. 

NOTE. — Bear  in  mind  that  you  are  writing,  not  alone  for  those  who  ad- 
mire Bentham  and  who  acknowledge  his  worth,  but  for  the  American  public, 
who  know  him  scarcely  by  name.  Moderate  and  sensible  men  will  smile  at 
your  enthusiasm,  the  incredulous  and  sarcastic  will  laugh  outright:  This  is  a 
matter  of  little  consequence  in  itself — but  it  may  lessen  the  reader's  confidence 
in  other  and  more  important  portions  of  the  memoir.  Did  you  quote  passages 
remarkable  for  depth  as  well  as  obscurity,  and  clear  them  up  to  the  satisfaction 
of  those  who  read,  your  panegyric  would  still  appear  somewhat  inflated.  Man 
is  an  estimable  being,  so  far  as  he  procures  happiness  for  himself  and  for  his 
fellow-men — An  individual  may  be  well  skilled  in  the  arts,  he  may  be  pro- 
foundly learned,  he  may  foretel  at  a  glance  the  destiny  of  nations — yet  should 
his  hands  and  feet  be  tied,  and  his"  mouth  hermetically  sealed,  he  might  as  well 
be  a  simpleton  as  a  wise  man,  so  far  as  he  may  benefit  others.  Now  I  think 
of  it,  you  have  made  an  acknowledgment  to  the  same  effect  a  page  or  two 
back.  Had  Bentham  mixed  more  with  those  about  him,  and  acted  and  talked 
like  other  men,  and  studied  to  convey  his  wonderful  conceptions  in  familiar  lan- 
guage, how  much  better  had  it  been  for  the  world,  and  for  his  own  reputation, 
than  to  see  them  ground  over,  diluted,  and  served  up  by  a  French  cook. 

REPLY. — What  is  said  of  Jeremy  Bentham  throughout  this  work,  the  author, 
who  has  had  the  best  opportunities  for  judging,  believes — he  might  say  knows 
to  be  true.  Believing  thus,  and  having  said  it  seriously,  he  cannot  consent  to 
qualify  the  language,  for  no  better  reason  than  because  it  may  appear  ex- 


40  JEREMY    BENTHAM. 

And  now,  before  we  go  to  the  familiar  facts,  where- 
by every  reader  may  be  acquainted  with  Jeremy  Bent- 
ham,  as  men  are  with  men,  it  were  well  to  know 
whether  he  regards  the  knowledge  he  is  about  to 
have,  as  worth  having ;  whether  he  is  prepared  to 
believe,  that  laying  the  foundations  of  an  immutable 
science,  that  going  forth  to  the  four  quarters  of  the 
earth  as  a  benefactor  and  a  legislator,  thinking  no- 
thing too  small  for  notice  which  may  concern  the 
happiness  of  the  great  human  family,  nothing  too 
weighty  nor  too  large  to  be  grappled  with,  if  it  af- 
fected their  welfare  either  now  or  hereafter,  are  do- 
ings of  not  much  importance  in  the  pathway  of  cen- 
turies. If  so,  he  had  better  proceed  no  further. 

travagant  to  those  "  who  know  Bentham  scarcely  by  name,"  and  to  whom 
therefore  any  thing  like  the  truth  would  appear  extravagant;  or  because  it  may 
serve  to  disparage  the  general  character  of  a  work  with  those  who  are  too  in- 
dolent for  enquiry,  or  presumptuous  enough  to  believe  that  nobody  can  begreat 
in  any  way  without  their  knowledge. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  41 


CHAPTER    III. 

FAMILIAR   ANECDOTES   OF   MR.  BENTHAM. 

First  acquaintance  with  his  Works — Utilitarians — First  Interview — Milton's 
House — The  Dinner — Mr.  Adams — Resemblance  to  Dr.  Franklin — Mr.  B. — 
Peculiarities  of  Dress,  Diet,  Language,  &c. 

I  HOPE  to  be  pardoned  for  alluding  to  myself  here ; 
but  if  the  reader  wishes  to  know  Mr.  Bentham  as  I 
do,  he  must  follow  me  step  by  step.     My  acquaint- 
ance with  the  writings  of  the  philosopher  began  about 
twelve  years  ago.     I  was  then  a  student  at  law  in 
Baltimore,  Maryland.     Mr.  Hoffman,  the  professor  of 
law  in  the  university  there,  having  published  a  "  Course 
of  Legal  Study,"  and  having,with  a  liberality  for  which 
I  can  never  be  too  grateful,  offered  me  the  advantage 
of   his  library,  one  of  the  largest  and  best  in  our 
country,  I  determined  after  full  consideration  of  the 
difficulties  in  my  path,  to  pursue  that  "Course,"  not- 
withstanding I  had  entered  with  the  late  distinguish- 
ed  Mr.  Winder.     While  pursuing  it,  which    I    did, 
whenever  it  was  possible  to  find  the  books  mentioned, 
it  became  necessary  to  read  three  different  works  by 
Mr.  Bentham: — his  Theorie  des  Peines  et  des  Re- 
compenses, par  M.  Dumont,  in  French;  his  Defence 
of  Usury,  the  very  title  of  which  was  enough  to  cap- 
tivate me ;  and  his  great  English  work  in  quarto,  on 
Morals  and  Legislation.     Of  the  first,  Mr.  Hoffman 
spoke  thus;  and  in  all  that  he  said,  he  was  corrobo- 
rated by  Mr.  Pierpont  the  preacher,  to  whom  I  was 
indebted  even  for  the  book  of  Mr.  Hoffman, — "  It  is 
a  matter  of  no  less  surprise  than  regret,  that  a  work 
of  such  extraordinary  merit  should  thus  long  have  re- 
mained unknown,  not  only  to  the  students  but  to  the 

(5 


42  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

learned  of  our  country."  I  would  observe  here,  by 
the  by,  that  precisely  the  same  remark  might  be 
made  of  every  other  work  by  the  same  author.  But 
Mr.  Hoffman  proceeds — "  Five  years  have  elapsed 
since  the  publication  of  this  book,  yet  it  is  to  be  found 
in  no  public  or  private  library  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted ;  and  most  of  the  booksellers,  and  many  of 
the  literati,  have  never  heard  of  it."  How  true  !  and 
how  disgraceful  to  our  age !  1  do  not  say  to  our  coun- 
try; for  it  was  the  same,  five  years  ago  in  the  country 
of  the  author. 

Not  being  very  easy  with  French  at  the  time,  and 
perceiving  at  the  end  of  the  work,  which  was  printed 
at  London,  that  a  translation  was  about  to  appear,  I 
desired  a  bookseller  to  import  a  copy  for  me,  in  Eng- 
lish if  possible,  if  not — in  French.  Neither  could  be 
had;  the  work  was  not  known  there.  I  tried  again; 
but  with  no  better  success,  nor  could  I  even  find  out 
whether  Mr.  Bentham  was  a  native  or  not  of  Eng- 
land. One  great  work  had  just  appeared  in  English, 
to  be  sure;  but  another  had  just  appeared  in  French, 
and  was  to  be  translated  into  English.  Of  course 
therefore  I  concluded  that  the  original  was  in  French; 
and  as  no  philosophical  writer,  no  such  close  and  pow- 
erful reasoner  certainly  as  the  author  before  me, 
would  write  in  any  other  than  his  native  language, 
that  he  was  therefore  a  Frenchman.  And  this  was 
all  I  knew,  or  any  body  else  of  whom  I  enquired,  till 
many  years  had  gone  by. 

At  last,  on  hearing  Mr.  Hoffman  express  a  desire  that 
somebody  would  undertake  to  render  the  two  volumes 
referred  to,  into  English,  I  told  him  I  would  do  it,  if  I 
could  find  a  publisher.  He  thought  there  would  be 
no  difficulty  in  the  way,  and  even  spoke  of  publishing 
it  himself;  but  to  this  I  would  not  consent;  for  apart 
from  the  apathy  of  the  public,  I  believed  that  a  pub- 
lisher not  in  the  trade  might  lose  by  a  work,  which  a 
publisher  in  the  trade  might  make  money  by.  I  there- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  43 

fore  wrote  to  Mr.  Riley  of  New- York,  then  regarded 
as  one  of  the  largest  and  most  enterprising  of  our  law- 
publishers,  and  offered  to  translate  the  two  volumes  oc- 
tavo, one  of  which  contained  somewhat  over  four  hun- 
dred pages,  the  other  somewhat  less,  and  to  add  notes 
on  English  law,  and  the  criminal  jurisprudence  of  our 
country,  which  might  be  referred  to  the  judgment  of 
any  good  lawyer ;  and  to  do  this  for  three  hundred  dol- 
lars, one  half  payable  in  law-books ; — the  work  to  be 
ready  for  the  press  in  three  months  at  furthest.  But 
he  was  afraid  to  undertake  it,  alleging  that  nobody 
knew  Mr.  Bentham.  And  here  the  matter  rested,  for  I 
knew  as  little  of  him  as  others  did,  until  the  year  1825, 
when  we  were  accidentally  thrown  together  in  his 
native  country.  I  have  mentioned  these  things  mere- 
ly to  show,  that  the  reverence  I  feel  for  the  labours  of 
Jeremy  Bentham,  is  not  the  sudden  growth  of  partial- 
ity, nor  the  effect  of  what  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak 
of  here  as  the  friendship  of  that  extraordinary  man. 

But,  although  I  would  have  crossed  the  Atlantic, 
as  I  have  said  before,  to  enjoy  his  company  for  a  sin- 
gle evening,  had  I  been  able  to  afford  it ;  still,  after  I 
had  crossed  the  Atlantic — nay  after  I  had  arrived  in 
the  very  neighbourhood  of  his  house,  I  could  not  find 
a  person  that  knew  him,  or  had  ever  seen  him ;  and 
I  was  there  above  a  twelvemonth,  before  I  knew 
where  he  lived,  though  his  habitation  was  hardly  a 
pistol-shot  from  my  own  lodgings,  in  Warwick-street, 
Pall-Mail.  At  last,  however,  when  I  had  given  up  all 
idea  of  ever  seeing  the  man,  for  I  knew  several  na- 
tive Englishmen  of  high  character,  who  had  been  try- 
ing for  years  to  find  the  way  to  his  door,  as  they 
acknowledged  without  scruple, — we  were  brought 
together  by  the  merest  accident  in  the  world ;  and  I 
remained  with  him  so  long,  and  knew  him  so  inti- 
mately, that — perhaps  it  would  not  be  too  much  to 
say — probably  no  person  alive  knows  more  of  the 
true  character  of  Jeremy  Bentham  than  I  do.  Mr. 


44  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

Bowring,  and  Mr.  Mill,  the  author  of  British-India, 
may  have  known  him  longer ;  but  never  more  inti- 
mately. They  have  seen  him  at  intervals  of  a  week 
or  a  month,  year  after  year;  but  I  have  been  with 
him  every  day  for  about  eighteen  months,  and  spent 
almost  every  evening  with  him,  from  six  o'clock,  the 
dinner-hour,  till  about  eleven  or  twelve  at  night,  for 
the  whole  of  that  time.  I  have  seen  him  through  all 
his  changes  therefore;  and  I  believe  that  I  know  him 
thoroughly  and  completely. 

On  Friday  evening,  Oct.  22d,  1825 — I  have  the 
very  day  before  me, — I  was  invited  to  meet  with  the 
Utilitarians  at  his  house,  for  debate, — a  body  of  youth- 
ful conspirators  against  government,  order  and  mo- 
rality, the  fine  arts,  and  all  the  charities  and  sympa- 
thies and  elegancies  of  life,  you  would  suppose,  were 
you  to  judge  of  all  by  two  or  three  ;  or  even  by  what 
is  said-  of  all,  by  those  who  occupy  the  high-places  in 
the  commonwealth  of  literature.  This  formidable 
band  however  consisted  of  but  seven  persons,  most  of 
them  young  men,  mere  boys  in  age  and  experience, 
and  the  others  below  the  middle  age.  They  were 
all,  without  one  exception  I  believe,  atheists — fixed 
and  irretrievable  atheists  in  their  own  opinion,  though 
of  the  whole,  no  one  had  ever  read  much,  or  thought 
much,  or  written  much,  even  for  a  youth.  Nor  were 
they  otherwise  remarkable.  As  debaters,  they  were 
unspeakably  wretched;  as  writers,  they  were  nearly  as 
bad,  with  one  or  two  exceptions;  but  they  were  good 
reasoners  ;  and  one  of  their  number  was  certainly  the 
closest  and  clearest  I  ever  knew  under  the  age  of  thir- 
ty-five. Yet  he  was  hardly  eighteen  I  believe;  cer- 
tainly not  over  nineteen.  They  had  a  young  gentle- 
man to  preside,  of  whom  all  that  I  can  remember  is, 
that  he  had  very  black  hair,  very  bright  eyes,  and  ve- 
ry large  teeth ;  that  he  was  clever,  but  saucy,  and  a 
great  lover  of  paradox.  After  the  business  of  the  so- 
ciety was  over,  young  Mr.  Mill,  the  editor  of  Mr. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  45 

Bentham's  Rationale  of  Evidence,  then  going  through 
the  press,  read  a  portion  of  the  manuscript,  with  two 
or  three  of  his  own  notes,  which  were  certainly  very 
surprising  for  such  a  youth.  Having  already  learnt 
to  prefer  crude  Benthamism  to  prepared  Bentham- 
ism, I  detected  the  original  of  much  that  Mr.  Mill 
the  father  had  furnished  for  the  supplement  to  the 
Encyclopedia  Britannica  here.  We  had  almost  the 
whole  of  his  renowned  essay  on  Jurisprudence,  in  a 
colloquial  form.  After  this,  they  had  what  they  call- 
ed a  debate — and  such  a  debate !  No  wonder  the  Uti- 
litarians are  at  daggers  drawn  with  oratory.  Of  the 
leaders,  not  one  was  ever  able  to  express  himself,  with 
power  and  beauty,  even  about  his  own  faith  ;  not  one 
converses  well,  not  one  is  there  that  speaks  with  ener- 
gy, clearness  and  fluency,  at  the  same  time,  nor  one  that 
may  ever  hope,  under  any  circumstances,  to  be  distin- 
guished as  a  speaker.  I  know  them  all;  and  1  know 
what  I  say  to  be  true.  Mr.  Bentham  is  very  unhappy 
in  conversation,  the  moment  he  leaves  preaching  and 
begins  to  argue ;  and  Mr.  Mill,  the  father,  never  at- 
tempted a  speech  but  once  they  say,  and  then  he 
failed  so  utterly  and  so  hopelessly  that  he  has  been 
at  war  with  oratory  ever  since.  (19)  However,  as  I 

(19)  It  is  laughable  enough  to  see  how  near  the  truth  guess-work  may  go. 
The  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  who  wrote  the  paper  for  the  Edinburgh  Review,  from 
which  the  following  is  extracted,  never  knew,  never  could  know,  either  by  enquiry 
or  by  reading,  that  what  he  says  here  is  true.  And  yet,  although  not  exactly 
the  truth,  it  is  very  near  the  truth,  so  far  as  the  narrow-mindedness  of  the  sect 
is  concerned. 

"  We  have  been"  says  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  XCVII.  p.  160,  "  for 
some  time  past  inclined  to  suspect  that  these  people  (the  Utilitarians),  whom 
some  regard  as  the  lights  of  the  world,  and  others  as  incarnate  demons,  are  in 
general  ordinary  men,  with  narrow  understandings,  and  little  information.  The 
contempt  which  they  express  for  elegant  literature,  is  evidently  the  contempt 
of  ignorance.  We  apprehend  that  many  of  them  are  persons  who,  having 
read  little  or  nothing,  are  delighted  to  be  rescued  from  the  sense  of  their  own 
inferiority  by  some  teacher,  who  assures  them  that  the  studies  which  they  have 
neglected  are  of  no  value,  puts  five  or  six  phrases  into  their  mouths,  lends  them 
an  odd  number  of  the  Westminster  Review,  and  in  a  month  transforms  them 
into  philosophers.  Mingled  with  these  smatterers,  whose  attainments  just  suf- 
fice to  elevate  them  from  the  insignificance  of  dunces  to  the  dignity  of  bores, 
and  to  spread  dismay  among  their  pious  aunts  and  grandmothers,  there  are,  we 
well  know,  many  well-meaning  men,  who  have  really  read  and  thought  much; 


46  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

have  said  before,  they  are  almost  to  a  man  powerful 
and  acute  reasoners,  though  addicted  to  questioning 
the  most  obvious  truth  when  it  stands  in  their  way. 
This  evening  the  subject  was  the  poor-laws,  and  the 
policy  of  their  introduction  into  Ireland.  It  was 
opened  by  a  Mr.  P.,  a  good-natured,  large,  agreeable 
man,  who  like  two  others  in  this  society  of  seven, 
was  afflicted  with  an  impediment  of  speech,  and  used 
to  stop  and  breathe  between  every  two  or  three  words. 
No  wonder  they  sneer  at  oratory!  He  was  replied 
to  by  young  Mill,  in  a  very  modest,  firm,  unprepared 
speech.  The  reasoning  and  the  language  of  Mr.  M. 
were  both  good,  though  he  appeared  somewhat  anx- 
ious; and  a  part  of  his  pronunciation  was  that  of  the 
north  country — waound,raound,  fec.,for  wound,  round, 
fee.  He  was  followed  by  another,  who  got  up  with 

but  whose  reading  and  meditation  have  been  almost  exclusively  confined  to  one 
class  of  subjects;  and  who,  consequently,  though  they  possess  much  valuable 
knowledge  respecting  those  subjects,  are  by  no  means  so  well  qualified  to  judge 
of  a  great  system  as  if  they  had  taken  a  more  enlarged  view  of  literature  and 
society. 

Nothing  is  more  amusing  or  instructive  than  to  observe  the  manner  in  which 
people,  who  think  themselves  wiser  than  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  fall  into 
snares  which  the  simple  good  sense  of  their  neighbours  detects  and  avoids.  It 
is  one  of  the  principal  tenets  of  the  Utilitarians,  that  sentiment  and  eloquence 
serve  only  to  impede  the  pursuit  of  truth.  They  therefore  affect  a  quakerly 
plainness,  or  rather  a  cynical  negligence  and  impurity  of  style.  The  strongest 
arguments,  when  clothed  in  brilliant  language,  seem  to  them  so  much  wordy 
nonsense.  In  the  mean  time  they  surrender  their  understandings,  with  a  facility 
found  in  no  other  party,  to  the  meanest  and  most  abject  sophisms,  provided  those 
sophisms  come  before  them  disguised  with  the  externals  of  demonstration. 
They  do  not  seem  to  know  that  logic  has  its  illusions  as  well  as  rhetoric, — that 
a  fallacy  may  lurk  in  a  syllogism  as  well  as  in  a  metaphor. 

Mr.  Mill  is  exactly  the  writer  to  please  people  of  this  description.  His  ar- 
guments are  stated  with  the  utmost  affectation  of  precision;  his  divisions  are 
awfully  formal;  and  his  style  is  generally  as  dry  as  that  of  Euclid's  Elements." 
******** 

"  As  to  the  greater  part  of  this  sect,  [Edinburgh  Review,  No.  XCVII,  p.  189] 
it  is,  we  apprehend,  of  little  consequence,  what  they  study,  or  under  whom. 
It  would  be  more  amusing,  to  be  sure,  and  more  reputable,  if  they  would  take 
up  the  old  republican  cant,  and  declaim  about  Brutus  and  Timoleon,  the  duty 
of  killing  tyrants,  and  the  blessedness  of  dying  for  liberty.  But,  on  the  whole, 
they  might  have  chosen  worse.  They  may  as  well  be  Utilitarians  as  jockeys 
or  dandies.  And  though  quibbling  about  self-interest  and  motives,  and  objects 
of  desire,  and  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number,  is  but  a  poor 
employment  for  a  grown  man,  it  certainly  hurts  the  health  less  than  hard-drink- 
ing, and  the  fortune  less  than  high  play:  it  is  not  much  more  laughable  than 
phrenology,  and  is  immeasurably  more  humane  than  cock-fighting." 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  47 

a  sort  of  fling,  and  began  with  a  loud,  free  voice, 
which  died  away  after  a  moment  or  two;  when  he  lost 
himself  entirely,  having  said  this  and  this  only  :  Sir, 
I  rise  to  make  a  few  observations, — and  but  a  few. 
My  opinion  is  decided,  and  very  decided.  Here  he 
began  to  talk  lower  and  lower,  and  soon  ran  himself 
out,  courage,  waggery  and  all. 

After  this  brief  sketch  of  the  Utilitarians  I  saw 
gathered  together  at  the  hermitage  of  Mr.  Bentham, 
in  Queen-Square  Place, — and  whom  by  the  way  it  was 
my  lot  to  oppose,  whenever  they  touched  upon  theo- 
logy,— the  reader  will  be  prepared  to  feel  as  I  did, 
when  at  the  end  of  another  week,  as  I  was  sitting  by 
myself  in  my  landlady's  little  parlor,  a  young  man, 
whom  I  knew  for  the  private  secretary  of  Mr.  Bent- 
ham,  and  whom  I  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  two 
keepers  mentioned  by  the  trust-worthy  Parry,  enter- 
ed the  room,  and  after  interchanging  a  word  or  two 
about  the  weather,  dropped  his  voice,  and  communi- 
cated a  verbal  invitation  to  me  from  Jeremy  Bent- 
ham,  as  if  it  were  the  pass-word  for  something,  which 
it  were  a  matter  of  life  and  death  for  anybody  to  over- 
hear. So — I  was  to  dine  with  the  philosopher  ;  and 
the  day  fixed  upon  was  the  2d  of  Nov.  (1825);  the 
hour  six.  But  query,  said  I  to  myself,  as  the  day 
drew  near — must  I  go  punctually  or  not?  If  I  go 
punctually,  who  knows  but  I  may  be  charged  with  af- 
fectation or  ignorance  ;  a  disregard  or  a  want  of  ac- 
quaintance with  the  usages  of  the  country,  not  to  be 
pardoned.  I  knew  very  well  that  "  fashion's  six  is 
half-past-six  or  seven,"  just  as  "  not  at  home"  is, — I 
have  no  time  to  throw  away  on  you.  But  then  the 
philosopher  they  say,  is  not  a  man  to  be  trifled  with  : 
he  is  moreover  somewhat  whimsical,  and  he  cares  no- 
thing about  fashion.  Perhaps,  therefore,  if  1  do  not 
arrive  punctually,  I  may  be  reproached  for  my  want 
of  a  republican  virtue,  and  put  off  without  my  dinner. 
This  determined  me,  and  I  started  in  good  season  ; 


48  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

but  owing  to  the  difficulty  of  finding  the  way  with- 
out a  guide  through  Queen-Square  Place,  the  secretary 
had  been  obliging  enough  to  say  that  he  would  leave 
the  iron  gate  open  for  me,  which  enters  on  the  park. 
(20)  The  gate  I  missed  ;  and  I  did  not  arrive  therefore 
till  a  quarter  after  the  time.  But  after  I  had  arriv- 
ed, there  seemed  to  be  little  or  no  prospect  of  my  see- 
ing the  interior.  I  could  find  nothing  that  resem- 
bled what  in  our  country  is  denominated  a  front-door 
•—nothing  in  the  shape  or  size  of  a  principal  en- 
trance. A  door  I  saw,  and  I  marched  up  to  it ;  but 
there  was  no  knocker,  and  after  feeling  about  in  the 
dark  awhile,  I  discovered  the  steps,  and  circum-navi- 
gated  the  whole  premises,  including  the  coach-house 
and  a  part  occupied  by  Mr.  Coulson,  editor  of  the 
Globe.  At  last  I  found  myself  just  ,where  I  started 
from.  So,  for  the  want  of  anything  better,  I  began 
to  pound  away  at  the  door  with  my  knuckles.  After 
a  minute  or  two  spent  in  this  way,  the  door  opened, 
and  the  secretary  appeared  in  a  room  on  the  left  of 
the  passage-way,  seated  at  a  piano — as  vile  a  thing, 
by  the  by,  as  I  ever  saw,  though  he  had  a  decided 
taste  for  music,  and  played  the  organ  with  a  master- 
ly touch  for  an  amateur.  We  entered  into  conversa- 
tion immediately,  and  were  beginning  to  understand 
each  other,  when  I  stopped  to  listen  to  a  cheerful 
trembling  voice  that  appeared  to  be  approaching. 
The  next  moment  I  heard  my  name  pronounced,  and 
somebody  talking  very  fast  and  not  very  intelligibly 
at  the  door,  wrhich  opened  with  a  nervous  hurried 
shake,  and  a  middling-sized,  fresh-looking  old  man, 
with  very  white  hair,  a  good-humoured,  though  strong- 

(20)    A  friend  here  puts  the  following  question. 

Why  all  this  trouble  in  finding  the  place,  when  you  had  heen  debating  with 
a  club  of  Utilitarians  at  his  house  since  October  22. — See  page  44.  Answer. 
Simply  because  such  is  the  fact.  I  had  never  been  at  Queen-Square  Place 
but  once  before,  and  that  was  in  the  evening,  by  another  route,  and  with  a 
guide.  On  this  occasion  I  took  my  way  through  the  park,  being  so  advised 
by  one  who  knew,  that  even  by  day  it  would  be  exceedingly  difficult  for  any- 
body to  find  the  house  a  second  time  through  Queen-Square  Place. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  49 

ly-marked  face,  a  true  quaker-coat,  and  a  stoop  in 
his  gait,  entered  and  began  talking  to  me  as  if  we 
had  known  each  other  for  years.  A — a  welcome 
to  the  hermitage — I  can't  see  here  (turning  away 
from  the  light) — a — a — there's  my  hand — a — a — we 
must  form — a — a — I've  heard  of  you — a — a — anti- 
holy  alliance  together.  I  made  the  best  reply  in  my 
power,  delighted  with  his  cordial  strange  way,  though 
sorely  puzzled  to  make  out  what  he  said.  "  Just 
time  enough  to  look  at  my  garden — a — a — "  clapping 
on  a  large  straw  hat  as  he  spoke,  with  a  green  ribbon 
to  it  (the  reader  will  not  forget  the  season  of  the 
year),  and  grasping  a  cane.  I  thought  of  Parry  here, 
the  veracious  Parry ;  but  on  the  whole,  as  it  was 
very  dark,  1  did  not  feel  much  afraid  of  being  mis- 
taken for  the  keeper  of  a  gray-haired  lunatic.  Yet  I 
was  half  afraid  to  offer  my  aim  at  first ;  and  when  I 
did,  he  threw  it  aside  with  a  laugh,  and  I  began  to 
prepare  for  a  trot,  as  described  by  that  facetious  gen- 
tleman, up  one  street  and  down  another.  Away  we 
went  as  fast  as  we  could  go,  he  keeping  a  little  ahead, 
and  talking  away  as  fast  as  ever,  though  with  a  slight 
hesitation  of  speech,  hardly  perceptible  at  first.  N.  B. 
He  is  the  founder  of  the  Utilitarian  school  of  oratory. 
This  way,  this  way,  said  he,  as  we  drew  near  another 
part  of  his  large  garden,  this  way  now,  taking  my  arm 
as  he  spoke  ;  I'll  show  you — this  is  classical  ground 
— a — a — much  to  classicalize  it.  I  had  no  time  to 
bow,  nor  would  he  have  seen  me  if  I  had.  Rush  (21) 
was  here,  a — a — down  on  your  marrow-bones, — a — a 
— I  gave  him  a  piece  of  the  balustrade  of  Milton's 
house — a — a  there  it  is  (pointing  to  the  back  side  of 
a  two-story  brick  house)  that  belongs  to  me — a — a — 
large  garden — the  largest  here  that  looks  upon  the 
park,  except  the  royal-gardens — a — a — now  it  is  din- 
ner time. 

(21)   Rush,  our  late  Minister  to  England. 

7 


50  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

This  over,  he  led  me  up  to  what  he  called  his 
work-shop ;  a  small  crowded  room,  with  a  false  floor 
occupying  two-thirds  of  it  ;  a  sort  of  raised  platform, 
with  a  table  on  it,  just  large  enough  for  himself,  his 
two  secretaries,  and  one  guest — he  never  had  more. 
I  had  what  he  called  the  seat  of  honour,  opposite  the 
sage,  with  Mr.  Secretary  Doane  at  my  right,  and  the 
other  at  my  left.  I  had  been  told,  I  know  not  how 
many  queer  stories  about  the  household  economy  of 
the  philosopher  ;  but  they  were  all  very  far  from  the 
truth.  He  began  with  removing  a  cover — -judge  of 
my  amazement  to  see  one  potato  in  the  dish,  and 
but  one.  It  was  large  and  mealy,  to  be  sure  ;  but 
hardly  a  mouthful  for  a  hungry  man,  who  had  long 
passed  his  regular  dinner-hour.  But  while  I  was  won- 
dering at  the  simplicity  and  straight-forwardness  of 
the  philosopher,  who  fell  upon  the  potato,  broke  it  up, 
and  began  pealing  it  with  his  fingers,  a  turreen  of  ca- 
pital soup  was  served  ;  and  I  was  directed  to  a  bottle 
of  Burgundy  that  stood  on  my  right,  and  a  bottle  of 
Madeira  on  my  left,  which,  as  the  philosopher  himself 
never  tasted  wine,  were  probably  intended  for  his  two 
secretaries  and  myself.  To  the  soup  succeeded  oys- 
ter-patties, a  very  savoury  dish  under  the  manage- 
ment of  his  cook.  Then  we  had  plum-pudding,  apple- 
pie,  and  beef;  and  while  he  ate  of  the  two  former  as  a 
first  course  (22),  such  being  the  fashion  of  his  youth, 
we  were  served  with  the  beef;  and  while  we  partook 
of  the  plum-pudding  and  apple-pie,  he  took  beef,  as 
we  say  here.  I  mention  the  courses,  and  the  very 
dishes,  and  the  order  in  which  they  appeared,  thus 
particularly,  because  of  the  strange  stories  that  are 
abroad  on  the  subject,  all  of  which  are  not  only  un- 
true, but  ridiculously  untrue.  He  talked  a  good  deal 
after  the  heavy  work  of  the  dinner  was  through  ; 
and  his  conversation  was  delightful,  not  so  much 

(22)    As  the  old-fashioned  of  our  country  still  do.      You  know  the  law 
reader — he  that  eats  most  pudding  shall  have  most  meat. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  51 

on  account  of  the  subject  or  the  language,  though 
the  former  was  full  of  interest,  and  the  latter  good 
enough  to  satisfy  me,  as  on  account  of  the  general, 
unaffected  pleasantry  of  his  manner,  with  here  a 
dash  of  good-natured  sarcasm,  and  there  a  sprinkle 
of  downright  roguishness.  I  should  not  say  of  Mr. 
Bentham  that  he  had  much  of  the  manner  of  the  old 
school,  or  any  thing  of  a  high-bred  air ;  but  he  had 
what  I  cannot  help  revering  and  loving  much  more, 
a  playful  and  easy  mariner,  like  that  of  one  who  is 
tired  of  being  upon  his  good  behaviour,  and  is  glad 
to  let  a  stranger  see  the  inside  of  that  which  all  but 
a  very  few  are  only  permitted  to  judge  of  by  the 
outside — his  real  character. 

As  soon  as  the  two  secretaries  had  retired,  which 
was  immediately  after  dinner,  he  spoke  freely  of  him- 
self, his  works,  and  his  followers — or  disciples.  Mr. 
Mill,  the  father,  he  said,  was  his  disciple,  Ricardo, 
Mill's.  Ricardo  therefore  was  his  grand-disciple.  I 
am  trying  now,  and  I  shall  hereafter  try,  in  every  si- 
milar case,  to  present  not  only  the  ideas,  but  the  very 
language  of  Mr.  Bentham  after  dinner.  Speaking  of 
Mr.  Adams,  our  late  President  of  the  United  States, 
he  observed  that  Mr.  A.  once  avowed  himself  to  be, 
sitting  in  that  very  chair,  a  Platonic  Trinitarian.  A 
Platonic  Trinitarian  !  said  I  ;  upon  my  word,  Sir,  I 
should  like  to  know  what  he  meant.  I  should  not, 
said  he,  with  a  smile ;  as  if  he  did  not  much  care. 
This  penitentiary  plan, — he  said,  while  speaking  of  ours 
in  the  United  States,  concerning  which  he  made  many 
particular  and  earnest  enquiries,  the  answers  to  which 
he  frequently  interrupted  with,  Good  God,  only  think 
of  that!  Lord  God,  (23)  only  think  of  that! — would 
have  been  adopted  thirty  years  before  ;  but  he  offend^- 

(23)  Says  the  friend  before  referred  to — '  You  quote  Bentham  as  saying, 
Good  God,  Lord  God,  &c.  in  the  same  line.  As  you  may  have  omitted 
much  that  is  beautiful  in  his  conversation,  as  it  regards  peculiarity  of  expres- 
sion, is  it  fair  to  give  vulgarities  or  puerilities  ?'  Ans.  These  are  not  puerili- 
ties— they  are  characteristic  peculiarities.  They  are  a  part  of  his  natural  lan- 
guage ;  aud  therefore  do  I  give  them,  and  for  nothing  else. 


52  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

ed  the  king,  who  answered  one  of  his  papers,  about 
Sweden,  I  believe,  by  maintaining  that  a  certain 
course  of  policy  adopted  by  the  British  government  was 
designed  to  check  the  power  of  Russia.  At  first  he 
could  not  believe  that  the  reply  was  actually  written 
by  the  late  George — but  became  afterwards  satisfied 
of  the  fact,  on  the  authority,  if  I  do  not  mistake,  of 
Lord  Shelburne  (24).  It  was  undoubtedly  true  that 
his  majesty  did  occasionally  write  for  the  paper  in 
which  the  reply  appeared  ;  and  that  he  also  wrote 
on  agriculture,  in  Arthur  Young's  celebrated  work, 
under  the  signature  of  Robinson  (25).  Nearly  three 
hours  had  now  been  passed  at  the  table,  in  uninter- 
rupted conversation,  when  tea  appeared,  which  he 

(24)  Under  the  Rockingham  Adminstration,  formed  in  17S7,  Mr.  Fox  and 
Lord  Shelburne  were  the  principal  Secretaries  of  State.     In  1781  the  Frag- 
ment on  Government,  by  Mr.  Bentham,  brought  the  Earl  of  Shelburne  to 
visit  him  at  a  garret  in  Lincoln's  Inn — a  very  considerable  intimacy  and  friend- 
ship followed.     The  Earl  was  Judge  Blackstone's  patron — a  breach  follow- 
ed between  these  two  after  the  Fragment  appeared. 

(25)  I  have  before  me  now  a  note  in  manuscript  sent  years  ago,  by  Jeremy 
Bentham  to  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  for  the  purpose  of  engaging  him  in  the  sup- 
port of  a  Bill  for  the  erection  of  a  new  prison  at  Tothill-fields.     The  writer 
had  prepared  it,  with  a  view  to  the  celebrated  PANOPTICON.     "  You  know, 
or  you  do  not  know,"  said  Bentham,  "  that  Pitt  the  second,  and  Lord  Melville 
the  first,  were  approvers  ;  Pitt  with  as  much  warmth  as  he  was  capable  of, 
Melville  with  parliamentary  publicity  and  privately-declared  enthusiasm,  of  my 
brother's  invention,*  as  therein  displayed,  and  the  application  made  by  me  of 
it  ;  and  that  on  that  ground  in  the  first  place  all  prisoners,  and  in  the  next 
place  all  paupers,  as  they  and  lloset  gave  me  to  understand,  were  intended 
by  them  to  have  been  put  into  my  hands — Pitt  and  Rose  having  the  magnani- 
mity to  give  up  their  already-particularized  pauper-scheme,  after  perusal  of  the 

public  exposure  I  had  made  of  it :   that  the  faith  of  Parliament  was  by 

pledged  to  the  prison  part  of  the  scheme,  and  land  at  Mill-Bank:):  half  a  mile 
in  length,  put  into  my  possession  in  consequence,  and  that  for  a  term  of  years 
(I  do  not  at  this  moment  recollect  how  many)  more  than  the  seige  of  Troy 
lasted.     Pitt  persevered  against  the  veto,  opposed  by  George  the  Third,  whose 
unassuageable  hatred  I  had  provoked  by  the  part  taken  by  me  on  the  occasion 
of  the  French  revolution,  in  and  by  my  work  on  the  Judiciary  Establishment 
1790—91,  and  a  little  before  that,  by  my  opposition  to  an  unprovoked  war, 
endeavoured  at  by  him  against  Catharine  II.  in  support  of  another  provoked 
war  he  had  induced  Gustavus  of  Sweden  to  make  for  her,  by  which  two  wars, 
or  rumours  of  wars,  was  produced  a  newspaper-war  on  the  same  ground,  be- 
tween his  said  most  sacred  and  anointed  Majesty,  who  fought  in  person,  and 
your  unanointed  humble  servant." 

*  Alluding  here  to  the  Panopticon,  as  first  designed  for  a  manufactory,  by  General  Sir 
Samuel  Bentham. 
t  George  Rose. 
j  Where  the  Penitentiary  now  is — a  dead  failure. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  53 

accompanied  with  a  remark  that  he  loved  to  get 
drunk  three  times  a  day — on  tea  and  coffee  :  for 
what  was  drunkenness  but  intemperate  exhilaration  ? 
Black  tea  he  was  very  fond  of;  he  drank  it  in  large 
quantities.  But  green  was  bad  for  him  ;  he  had 
used  it  altogether  once,  but  after  overcoming  his 
aversion  to  black,  the  green  used  to  give  him  a 
severe  pain  if  he  touched  it.  After  this,  he  spoke 
of  Thompson's  Wealth,  a  work  published  a  little 
time  before,  by  a  perverse  and  whimsical  though 
somewhat  clever  Irishman,  who  being  invited  for  a 
few  days  to  Queen- Square  Place,  actually  seated 
himself  there  and  made  it  his  home  for  months,  al- 
though after  a  few  days  he  never  saw  the  master, 
even  to  eat  with  him  ;  but  was  furnished  with  a  sepa- 
rate table.  I  staid  till  half-past  ten,  by  particular 
and  repeated  invitation,  to  see  him  put  on  his  night- 
cap, while  he  talked  about  our  Franklin,  evidently 
very  much  gratified  by  my  recognition  of  the  great 
resemblance  they  bore  to  each  other ;  and  gave  me 
the  history  of  a  bust,  which,  though  it  was  made  for 
Franklin  at  Paris,  by  an  eminent  sculptor,  and  was 
an  admitted  likeness  by  every  body  that  knew  the  ori- 
ginal, had  been  bought  by  Ricardo  for  Mill,  and  sent 
to  him,  as  a  likeness  of  Bentham.  Before  we  parted, 
however,  he  grew  inquisitive  about  other  of  our  dis- 
tinguished countrymen,  and  particularly  about  Mr. 

B ,  of  whose    talents    he    thought   very  highly, 

though  he  shuddered  when  he  spoke  of  his  principles. 
The  way  he  came  to  know  Mr.  B.  was  this — he 
heard  from  his  publisher  that  an  American,  who 
lived  in  obscurity,  and  appeared  to  be  a  superior 
man,  had  given  him  a  general  order  for  a  copy  of 
every  thing,  whatever  it  was,  of  which  Mr.  Bentham 
was  the  author.  Subsequent  enquiries  led  to  a  fur- 
ther knowledge  of  Mr.  B.,  who  was  invited  to  Queen- 
Square  Place,  and  remained  there  for  a  considerable 
time,  as  well  as  at  Mr.  Bentham's  country-house. 
And  here  I  might  stop,  and  I  should  stop,  in  my  ac- 


54  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

count  of  what  he  said  of  that  powerful,  bad  man, 
who,  but  for  an  accident  alike  disastrous  and  happy, 
might  have  been  at  this  hour,  the  despotic  ruler  of  a 
part  of  our  country,  were  I  not  afraid  that  what  he 
said  to  Mr.  Bentham,  he  may  have  said  to  others, 
and  that  therefore   unless  contradicted  when  alive, 
it  may  soon  be  too   late  to  confront  him  with  the 
accuser,  even  though  he  should  desire  it  for  the  re- 
putation of  our  country.     I  observed  that  Mr.  Bent- 
ham  directed  his  enquiries  to  one   particular  point 
which  diverted  me  at  first,  and  then  startled  me.     He 
desired  to  know  whether  Mr.  B.  had  the  reputation 
of  being  wonderfully  fortunate  with  women  of  cha- 
racter ;  and  when  I  replied  in  the  negative,  and  asked 
him  why, — he  smiled  and  spoke  as  if  that  impression 
had  been  laboured  into  him  by  the  exile,  who  boasted 
of  having  intrigued  with  several  of  our  first  women, 
and  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  positively  that  the 
wife  of  one  of  our  presidents  had  been  his  mistress 
before  marriage.     I  was  thunderstruck  at  the  horri- 
ble audacity  of  the  man — for  not  content  with  this, 
he  had  mentioned  her  name.     I  told  Mr.  Bentham 
without  scruple  that  the  whole  story  was  utterly  and 
'  abominably  false,  that    I    knew  her   by  reputation, 
and  that  the  bare  possibility  of  such  a  thing,  the  bare 
suspicion  of  its  truth,  would  not  only  exclude  a  wo- 
man here  from  good  society,  but  her  husband,  what- 
ever were  the  worth  of  his  character,  from  every  high 
office  of  the  country.     Are  such  things  to  be  circu- 
lated throughout  Europe,  for  twenty  years,  without  re- 
proof or  contradiction,  because  forsooth,  they  are  only 
repeated  at  the  dinner-table  ?    I  say  no.     Are  we  to 
be  satisfied  with  speech,  when  there  is  more  virtue  in 
writing  ?    I  say  no.    And  I  rejoice  in  the  opportunity 
now  afforded  me  of  contradicting  it,  with  deliberation 
and  solemnity  here,  as  I  contradicted  it  there  in  the 
hurry  and  storm  of  outraged  feeling.     Nor  should  I 
stop  here — the  man  who  but  lives  now  by  the  tolera- 
tion of  a  despised  law,  not  satisfied  with  calumniating 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  55 

the  first  and  fairest  of  our  whole  country,  had  the 
courage  to  tell  another,  who  knew  little  or  nothing 
of  his  true  history,  that  he  had  killed  his  adversary  in 
a  duel,  because  he  had  threatened  to  do  so  not  long 
before,  that  he  meant  to  put  him  to  death  when  he 
took  the  field,  and  that  he  gloried  in  the  result.  By 
his  own  account  of  the  affair,  said  Mr.  Bentham,  I 
thought  he  must  be  a  cold-blooded  and  atrocious  ruf- 
fian. I  might  refer  also  to  the  proposition  made  by 
Mr.  B. — a  father — touching  the  daughter  he  sent  for, 
and  who  was  not  long  afterwards  I  believe  lost  at 
sea ;  but  I  forbear. 

And  now  let  me  finish  this  account  of  our  first  inter- 
view. The  greatest  oddities  I  saw  in  our  philosopher 
were  these:  he  had  potatoes,  apple-pie  and  tomatos,  all 
on  his  plate  at  the  same  time,  a  habit  with  which  our 
people  are  reproached  by  every  English  traveller  that 
we  see ;  he  wore  a  striped  calico  waistcoat ;  he  rub- 
bed and  scratched  continually  after  dinner,  being 
troubled  with  a  cutaneous  disease,  of  which  he  is 
now  cured ;  and  used — for  a  spit-box,  even  at  the  ta- 
ble, and  every  few  minutes  after  the  cloth  was  re- 
moved— an  article  which  I  never  saw  in  use  before 
out  of  a  bed-chamber ;  and  what  was  yet  more  ex- 
traordinary, he  always  lifted  it  up  so  that  I  could  not 
help  seeing  the  edge  and  form  whenever  he  used  it. 
He  ate  with  a  good  relish,  and  heartily  enough;  and 
though  nearer  79  than  78,  to  borrow  his  own  lan- 
guage, conversed  with  unabated  pleasure,  and  proba- 
bly with  unabated  vigour;  for  there  is  nothing  in  the 
best  of  his  works  superior  to  a  few  accidents  of  his 
conversation  after  he  had  swallowed  his  tea.  When 
we  parted,  he  engaged  me  for  the  following  Wednes- 
day; and  thus  every  week,  he  did  so  for  every  suc- 
cessive Wednesday,  till  I  became  an  established  in- 
mate of  Q.  S.  P. 


56  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Bentham's  Reminiscences — Garrick  in  Abel  Drugger — Effect  of  old  age — 
Parry — the  Panopticon — His  Theory  of  Punishments  and  Rewards — Style — 
Work  on  Evidence — Father — His  first  attempt  in  the  Law — Dumont — Rough 
Language — Summer  Dress — Fear  of  Ghosts  — Origin  of  Bentham — His  Father 
— Sleeps  standing — Avowal — Butler — Col.  Young — Writing — Music — Phre- 
nology— Benchers,  what  ? — Domestic  Habits — Fun  of  the  Secretaries — Father 
— Wedderbourne — The  Musical  Society — His  Grandmother — Erskine — Step- 
mother. 

NOTHING  could  be  more  delightful  than  the  vigor- 
ous, free,  and  spirited  sketches  of  men  and  manners 
which  Mr.  Bentham  threw  off,  almost  without  know- 
ing -it,  certainly  without  effort,  in  his  familiar  conver- 
sation. They  were  never  finished,  never  laboured- 
up  to  be  sure;  but  they  were  all  alive  with  the  touch- 
es of  a  master;  of  one  who  knew  the  interior  as  well 
as  the  exterior  of  what  he  described. 

He  had  seen  Garrick  in  his  best  character — Abel 
Drugger,  and  remembered  him  perfectly.  He  liked 
him  best  in  comedy.  After  knowing  more  of  Mr. 
Bentham's  mind,  his  good-natured  detestation  of  po- 
etry, his  horror  of  tragedy,  his  fondness  for  the  most 
childish  pantomime,  and  his  utter  incapability  of  re- 
lishing either  wit  or  sublimity,  though  broad  humour, 
playfulness,  and  common-sense,  never  had  a  more  ac- 
tive, nor  better  qualified  worshipper;  I  used  to  smile 
whenever  the  recollection  of  this  remark  flitted  over 
my  memory.  Perhaps  Garrick  never  did  appear  to 
greater  advantage  than  in  Abel  Drugger;  but  there 
was  something  so  absolutely  laughable  in  the  very 
idea  of  Mr.  Bentham's  undertaking  to  judge  of  him 
in  the  serious  drama,  which  he  hated  with  unquali- 
fied, unappeasable  hatred,  that  I  never  can  think  of 
it  now,  without  thinking  at  the  same  time  of  the  fel- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  57 

low  that  played  the  cock  in  Hamlet.  Mr.  Bentham 
is  a  lover  of  truth, — and  every  thing  is  judged  of  by 
him  therefore,  according  as  it  approaches  or  departs 
from  that  standard. 

He  once  belonged  to  a  club  of  which  Dr.  Johnson 
was  a  member  :  and  he  always  regarded  him  as  a  nar- 
row-minded, brutal,  bigoted  ruffian,  who  looked  upon 
majesty  with  the  eyes  of  a  country  schoolmaster.  He 
knew  Hogarth  also,  and  took  tea  with  him — has  no 
relish  for  Wilkie,  whenever  he  thinks  of  Hogarth  and 
his  moral  painting.  Wilkie's  paintings  have  no  moral. 
Speaking  of  Lafayette,  for  whom  he  appeared  to  en- 
tertain the  warmest  affection,  and  who  was  then  a 
subject  of  general  newspaper-remark,  he  observed 
that  this  second  father  of  our  country,  as  our  flash- 
writers  call  him,  would  speak  beautiful  English  for 
an  hour  together;  that  he  was  what  he  should  call  a 
great  speaker,  and  a  great  man  both  as  a  moralist  and 
as  a  politician ;  did  not  know  whether  he  was  intel- 
lectually great,  or  profound  however. 

At  this,  our  second  interview,  he  assured  me  that 
he  could  not  distinguish  between  the  taste  of  a  phea- 
sant and  that  of  a  mutton-chop  ;  both  were  before  us 
at  the  time  he  made  the  remark ;  and  the  pheasant, 
which  to  be  sure  is  a  tough,  insipid,  unmanageable  bird 
if  cooked  too  early  (26),  had  been  kept  till  strongly 
charged  with  the  game-flavour.  He  acknowledged 
however  that  he  could  perceive  a  difference  in  the 
brevity  and  conciseness  of  the  flesh,  when  asked  by  the 

(26)  How  to  manage  a  Pheasant. — "Instead  of  SMS.  per  col,  suspend  it 
by  one  of  the  long  tail-feathers,  and  the  pheasant's  falling  from  it,  is  the 
criterion  of  its  ripeness  and  readiness  for  the  spit." — Kitchner, 

But  another  says — "  that  the  detachment  of  the  feathers  cannot  take  place 
until  the  body  has  advanced  more  than  one  degree  beyond  the  state  of  whole- 
some haut-gout,  and  become  trap  inortifie ;  and  that  to  enjoy  the  game  in 
perfection,  you  must  have  a  brace  of  birds  killed  the  same  day  ;  these  are 
to  be  put  in  suspense,  as  above  directed — and  when  one  of  them  drops,  the 
hour  is  come  for  the  spit  to  be  introduced  to  the  other." — Cook's  Oracle. 

"  The  pheasant  should  only  be  eaten  when  the  blood  runs  from  the  bill, 
which  is  commonly  about  six  or  seven  days  after  it  has  been  killed;  otherwise 
it  will  have  no  more  savour  than  a  common  fowl." — Ude. 


58  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

secretary  on  his  left,  in  those  very  words.  But, 
said  I,  this  may  be  done  by  the  touch  of  the  teeth ; 
by  feeling  therefore  instead  of  taste.  He  agreed 
with  me.  Perhaps  a  decay  of  the  sense  of  smell 
might  be  the  true  cause  of  that  inability  to  distinguish 
in  taste,  I  added;  for  it  is  a  well  known  fact,  that 
people  who  are  fond  of  cigars,  do  not  know  whether  a 
cigar  is  lighted  or  not,  if  you  blindfold  them  and  pinch 
their  noses.  Good  God,  only  think  o'  that !  said  he, 
when  I  assured  him  that  I  myself  had  seen  the  ex- 
periment tried  more  than  once,  though  to  be  sure  I 
attributed  something  to  the  severity  of  the  pinch. 
As  to  many  kinds  of  meats,  however,  it  seems  proba- 
ble that  we  distinguish  them  altogether  by  the  sense 
of  smell.  Strong  beer  has  been  received  for  the  best 
Madeira  by  a  good  judge,  after  the  palate  was  satu- 
rated with  flavour.  But  Mr.  Bentham  assured  me 
that  he  could  not  even  detect  the  odour  of  a  rose. 
Not  long  before,  he  was  haunted  with  the  continual 
odour  of  something,  he  knew  not  what,  which  was  no 
otherwise  disagreeable  than  as  it  was  connected  in  his 
mind  with  the  idea  of  imperfection.  If  he  submit- 
ted a  rose  to  the  sense  during  the  period  he  spoke  of, 
"  A  smell  was  active;  though  not  the  smell  of  the  rose. 
It  was  quite  another  smell." 

I  watched  my  opportunity  this  evening,  and  alluded 
to  Parry — Captain  Parry,  the  authority  of  the  North 
American  Review,  for  January  1828.  Captain  Parry 
— Major  Parry  he  calls  himself,  said  Mr.  Bentham, with 
decided  emphasis,  and  a  little  anger.  He  lied — he 
dined  with  me,  and  went  away  drunk ;  we  dined  at  six, 
my  usual  hour,  instead  of  eight  or  nine.  The  secre- 
tary on  his  right  and  the  secretary  on  his  left,  appeared 
rather  blank  too,  at  the  mention  of  Parry. 

At  this  interview,  Mr.  Bentham  gave  me  a  copy 
of  the  Panopticon  :  he  appeared  bitterly  aggrieved, 
outraged,  by  the  disappointment  alluded  to  before, 
in  the  failure  to  establish  a  Panopticon  by  the  govern- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  59 

ment,  after  they  had  entered  into  a  contract  for  the 
purpose.  It  would  undoubtedly  have  turned  out  a 
mine  of  wealth  to  him,  and  a  prodigious  pecuniary 
saving  to  the  British  empire,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
success  of  the  principal  object;  a  thorough  and  safe, 
because  gradual  reform  of  the  whole  system  of  crimi- 
nal jurisprudence,  throughout  Europe  and  America. 

He  wrote  the  Theory  of  Punishments  and  Rewards, 
— a  work  prepared  with  a  view  to  this  magnificent  ob- 
ject only,  though  now  studied  by  all  the  statesmen  of 
Europe  for  itself  alone, — partly  in  English,  partly  in 
French ;  was  far  too  scrupulous  with  regard  to  style, 
he  thought ;  never  satisfied  with  the  harmony  of  a  sen- 
tence, nor  with  the  perspicuity  and  power  of  English. 
And  therefore  he  adopted  the  French,  because  in 
French  forsooth,  his  deficiencies  were  not  so  percepti- 
ble to  himself.  Many  will  never  understand  this  ;  but 
they  who  have  gone  over  and  over  the  same  page,  sound- 
ing it  aloud  as  it  were  in  the  very  depth  of  their  hearts, 
sentence  by  sentence,  till  they  are  fritted  through 
every  fibre  with  a  fever  that  cannot  be  soothed  ;  till 
they  shrink  with  a  diseased  nerve,  and  a  childish,  though 
preternatural  anxiety,  at  every  jar  in  the  smooth  ring- 
ing of  their  words,  unable  to  endure  the  clashing  of 
un-pronouncable  consonants,  and  casting  about  their 
language,  into  every  variety  of  shape,  to  avoid  the 
union  of  ds  with  ds,  or  ts  with  ts,  or  vs  with  fs,  or 
any  two  letters  of  the  same  or  a  similar  sound  with 
each  other, — all  who  have  been  affected  in  this  way, 
and  who  that  ever  wrote  much  without  indulging  in 
robust  and  healthy  exercise,  ever  escaped  ?  will  under- 
stand and  pity  the  nervousness  that  drove  Jeremy 
Bentham  to  write  in  a  foreign  language. 

At  last,  on  Saturday,  Dec.  17,  I  removed  to  the 
hermitage,  with  a  view  chiefly  to  finish  a  work  on 
Evidence,  which  Mr.  Bentham  had  begun  years  before, 
and  partly  carried  through  the  press,  but  abandoned 
— he  never  knew  why — with  the  manuscripts  all  be- 


60  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

fore  him  ;  which  manuscripts  had  passed  through  the 
hands  of  three  different  individuals,  for  the  very  same 
purpose, (27 )  before  he  begged  me  to  do  what  he  felt  as- 
sured I  could  do  in  three  weeks.  It  would  have  re- 
quired double  that  number  of  months  to  decipher  and 
arrange  the  papers.  After  I  had  spent  a  week  or  two 
upon  them,  at  the  rate  of  several  hours  a  day,  with  a  se- 
vere head-ache,  for  the  language  and  characters  were 
both  unreadable,  and  the  argument  was  entirely  lost, 
he  drew  me  off  to  prepare  a  paper  for  the  Westmin- 
ster Review;  after  which  I  was  never  able  to  complete 
the  work  (though  I  went  to  it  over  and  over  again 
before  I  left  the  country)  in  consequence  partly  of 
other  projects  suggested  by  him,  and  partly  of  others 
that  originated  with  myself. 

My  situation  was  now  all  that  heart  could  desire. 
I  had  a  glorious  library  at  my  elbow,  a  fine  large 
comfortable  study,  warmed  with  a  steam-engine  (ra- 
ther out  of  repair)  the  deficiencies  whereof  were  sup- 
plied by  coal ;  exercise-ground,  society,  and  retire- 
ment all  within  my  reach.  In  fact,  there  I  spent  the 
happiest,  and  I  believe  the  most  useful  days  I  had 
ever  passed  at  that  period  of  my  life.  Is  it  a  re- 
proach to  me  that  I  love  to  speak  of  them?  that  every 
incident  is  to  my  memory  now,  as  a  cup  brimming 
with  wine  ? 

DIARY.  Dec.  17.  At  dinner  to-day,  Mr.  Bentham 
spoke  freely  of  his  father  ;  he  was  an  attorney  ;  a 
weak  man.  After  which  he  observed  that  he  him- 
self, when  he  took  to  the  law,  suffered  exceedingly 
for  the  want  of  reports.  All  reports  were  in  manu- 
script then.  On  a  particular  occasion,  said  he,  I  gave 
a  legal  opinion,  which  turned  out  not  to  be  law,  be- 
cause the  law  had  been  altered  without  my  know- 

(27)  Mr.  John  Mill,  Mr.  Bingham,  and  another,  who,  if  I  do  not  mistake, 
was  Mr.  Hill,  the  barrister.  Mr.  John  Mill  took  away  the  marrow  of  it  for 
the  larger  work  on  Evidence  ;  why,  nobody  knew, — for  he  was  not  paid  by  the 
page  there  to  see  it  through  the  press. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  61 

ledge  or  consent.  I  refused  to  give  an  opinion  after 
this.  The  case  mentioned  however,  was  put  into  the 
hands  of  Lord  Kenyon  (I  believe)  who  also  gave  an 
opinion.  I  lost — he  gained.  He  could  make  nothing 
of  it,  and  was  paid  for  proving  as  much  at  the  par- 
ties' cost.  I  acknowledged  that  I  could  make  no- 
thing of  it — and  suffered  by  proving  the  wherefore  at  . 
my  own  cost. 

I  could  not  help  imagining  as  he  went  through  the 
history  of  this  early  error,  how  much  of  his  subse- 
quent views  of  the  law,  the  lawyers,  and  the  judges 
of  England,  might  be  owing  to  this  very  incident. 
Many  a  lawyer  has  had  his  whole  course  of  study 
changed  by  a  similar  event.  I  happen  to  know  se- 
veral, and  may  be  permitted  to  mention  one.  A  small 
book,  published  in  this  country,  and  entitled  Green- 
leafs  Cases, — which  is  a  collection  of  cases  doubted, 
modified,  and  over-ruled — alphabetically  arranged  for 
immediate  reference,  would  never  have  been  made, 
but  for  the  unfortunate  issue  of  an  early  case  with  the 
author.  He  had  come  to  court,  fully  prepared  to  es- 
tablish every  point  by  the  law  authorities,  and  by  all 
the  law  authorities  he  had  ever  been  allowed  an  op- 
portunity of  studying.  That  is  all  very  well,  said  the 
judge,  after  hearing  him  through — very  well,  indeed, 
sir  ;  but  you  do  not  appear  to  have  studied  such  a  case, 
naming  it.  Our  youthful  practitioner  read  the  page  re- 
ferred to — was  astounded,  overwhelmed  to  perceive 
that  his  law  was  no  longer  the  law  of  the  land  ;  left  the 
court,  went  back  to  his  solitary  study,  and  began  forth- 
with to  save  all  the  cases  that  fell  in  his  way,  of  a 
doubtful  character.  Most  of  Mr.  Bentham's  peculiar 
views,  peculiar  habits,  and  peculiar  figures,  I  believe 
I  might  say  all,  may  be  traced  in  the  same  way  to  in- 
cidents connected  with  his  youth;  his  hatred  of  Eng- 
lish law  and  of  English  lawyers,  of  Blackstone,  of 
Mansfield,  and  of  Eldon — to  his  fortunate  failure  in 
the  profession.  Other  facts  of  the  same  nature  will 
appear,  in  the  further  development  of  his  character. 


62  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

After  this,  he  spoke  of  M.  Dumont,  whom,  in  his 
half-pleasant,  half-serious,  odd  way,  he  charged  with 
blasphemy,  in  one  of  his  editorial  notes.  I  don't  know 
where  to  look  for  it,  he  added — I  never  saw  it ;  I  never 
read  any  thing  of  my  own  or  his — cannot  bear  it. 
However,  you  may — a — a — there,  there — look  for  it, 
in  what  he  says  on  the  subject  of  degrees  of  persua- 
sion in  evidence — a — a — what  says  he  ?  I  found  the 
passage.  It  was  pretty  well,  though  any  thing  but 
an  answer  to  the  text  which  he  designed  to  contro- 
vert. Ah — ah,  said  Mr.  B.  as  I  read  it  over  aloud — 
so  he  could  not  say  how  many  degrees,  hey  ?  Is  that 
any  reason  why  another  who  can  say,  shall  not  be 
permitted  to  say  how  many  degrees  there  are  in  a 
given  piece  of  testimony  ?  No  man  is  obliged  to  make 
use  of  the  scale ;  it  may  do  some  good,  it  can  do  no 
harm  ;  of  most  use  to  the  judges.  Here  I  asked  him 
why  printed  blanks  might  not  be  used,  to  be  filled  up 
in  every  cause  by  the  judge,  as  a  check  upon  his  own 
rough  estimate  of  the  value  of  testimony,  if  nothing 
more.  Yes — yes — what  do  you  think  of  Dumont  and 
his  note  ?  A  very  honest  and  very  clever  man  said 
I ;  but  I  see  no  force,  no  radical  force  in  the  objec- 
tion. Ah — a — a — it  may  be  well  for  you  to  read  all 
these  works,  English  and  French  both,  to  give  some 
account  of  them. 

By  this  time,  the  philosopher  had  got  his  coat  off, 
the  dinner  being  out  of  the  way,  and  sat  before  me 
so  that  nothing  was  visible  but  the  shirt,  which 
was  all  open  at  the  bosom  ;  into  which  he  had  thrust 
one  arm,  up  to  the  elbow,  and  was  rubbing  away 
with  an  ivory  paper-cutter.  By  and  by,  while 
searching  for  the  water-bottle,  he  broke  out,  with 
Cursed  bitch  has  carried  my,  my — a — a — a — no  here 
'tis.  I  laughed  at  his  manner — it  was  so  unlike  any 
thing  I  had  ever  seen  off  the  stage.  Moliere  would 
have  been  delighted  with  every  word,  Matthews, 
with  every  look — so  pleasant,  so  pettish,  so  affectedly 
wrathful,  and  so  fidgetty  were  they.  You  call  names 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  63 

with  a  very  good  natured  air,  said  I.  I'm  a  cursed 
dog  for  it,  said  he,  scratching  away,  I  removed  it  my- 
self to  assist  her  in  clearing  up  for  tea  ;  two  cursed 
dogs  therefore. 

I  had  now  leisure  to  observe  his  library,  which  oc- 
cupied two  whole  sides  of  the  room  here,  and  a  plain 
deal  book-case  at  the  end  of  the  table,  as  represented 
in  the  sketch  by  Sully.  The  platform  under  us,  he 
told  me  was  contrived  to  make  room  for  rubbish,  old 
manuscript,  &c.  The  library  below  was  very  large, 
consisting  I  dare  say  of  two  or  three  thousand  vo- 
lumes, most  of  which  were  old  and  valuable  editions 
of  the  best  works  of  their  age.  (28) 

IHth — 19th — 20th.  We  had  further  conversation 
about  M.  Dumont,  whose  character  and  history  I 
wanted  much  to  know  something  of.  For  a  French- 
man, said  I,  he  did  remarkably  well  with  what  you 
say  of  English  law ;  his  habits  as  a  lawyer  were 
against  his  perception  of  your  rule  for  estimating  the 
worth  of  testimony  by  degrees,  marked  upon  a  table. 
Not  a  lawyer,  said  he — not  a  Frenchman — a  Gene- 
vese;  they  speak  French  at  Geneva,  but  do  not  con- 
sider themselves  French.  No,  no — not,  a  lawyer,  I 
say — but  acquainted  with  the  practice  of  law,  that 
was  what  I  intended  to  say ,-  too  much  of  a  book-law- 
yer. (29)  True  true — yes  yes.  Dumont  was  here  for 

(28)  Never  shall  I  forget  a  scene  that  occurred  just  before  I  left  the  coun- 
try.    By  little  and  little,  by  borrowing  and  taking  without  leave,  which  he  was 
permitted  to  do — in  the  course  of  several  years  Mill  the  father  had  contrived 
to  get  from  five  to  seven  hundred  volumes  of  the  best  of  this  library  into  his 
own  study.     Shelves  were  made  for  them,  and  the  key  was  kept  by  himself; 
and  so  far  did  he  carry  his  notions  of  proprietorship,  that  Mr.  Bentham,  who 
had  suffered  once  by  not  being  able  to  get  a  peep  at  his  own  books,  when  Mill 
the  borrower  was  in  the  country,  begged  him  to  be  so  very  obliging  as  to  leave 
the  key.     But  Mr.  Mill — do  you  think  he  did  it?     No.     He  marched  off  into 
the  country  as  before,  and  Mr.  Bentham  had  to  wait  a  whole  month  for  a  peep.    At 
last,  George,  his  nephew,  arrived  from  France,  and  being  the  heir  of  his  uncle's 
property,  it  was  thought  well  enough  to  make  a  list,  if  nothing  more,  of  the 
books  borrowed  by  the  two  Mills.     I  need  not  say  how  the  matter  proceeded — 
but  it  ended  in  the  restoration  of  two  or  three  thousand  dollars  worth  of  books, 
which,  on  the  death  of  the  owner,  might  have  been  lost  to  the  heir. 

(29)  M.  Dumont  says  in  the  Traite  des  Preuves  Judiciaires,  2:  136.     "  De- 
puis  que  j'ai  suivi  notre  tribunal  d  Geneve,  J'ai,"  etc.  etc. 


64  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

several  years,  but  never  could  understand  our  course 
of  procedure.  But  for  him,  these  books  never  would 
have  seen  the  light — I  was  so  taken  up  with  the  Pa- 
nopticon. 

2 1  st.  Calls  me  every  day  to  walk  in  the  garden  with 
him  before  dinner.  Halloos  like  a  man-of-war's  boat- 
swain in  a  storm ;  good  practice  for  the  lungs — thinks 
they  are  strengthened  by  it,  as  they  undoubtedly  are. 
When  he  began  to  halloo,  he  could  not  make  himself 
heard  in  the  library ;  now  the  whole  neighbourhood 
may  hear  him.  I  observe  to-day  that  his  real  stature, 
before  he  began  to  stoop,  must  have  been  about  five- 
feet-six.  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  saw  a  finer 
picture  than  this  old  man,  hurrying  away  on  a  re- 
pectable  trot,  with  a  cane  that  he  calls  dapple,  after 
the  favourite  mule  of  Sancho  Panza ;  a  plain,  single- 
breasted  coat  of  a  dark  greenish  olive ;  white  hair, 
as  white,  as  plentiful,  and  curved  about  as  much  as 
the  mane  of  a  horse;  a  straw  hat,  edged  and  banded 
with  a  bright  green  ribbon;  thick  woollen  stockings, 
rolled  up  over  his  knees  outside  of  a  pair  of  drab 
cloth  trowsers,  (He  hates  breeches — never  could  look 
at  himself  in  breeches  without  laughing,  he  says);  a 
waistcoat  of  thin  striped  calico,  all  open  at  the  bosom 
— a  dress,  take  it  all  together,  which  he  wears,  not 
only  in  the  depth  of  winter,  but  in  the  heat  of  sum- 
mer. 

To-day  he  acknowledged  with  an  affected  serious- 
ness, which  I  could  not  help  thinking  was  not  alto- 
gether assumed,  that  he  was  afraid  of  ghosts,  and 
that  he  durst  not  open  his  eyes  in  the  dark.  Never- 
theless, when  he  came  to  argue  the  matter  with  him- 
self, he  said,  he  found  no  difficulty  in  satisfying  his 
own  mind  that  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  a  real 
ghost;  for,  added  he,  if  there  are  ghosts,  they  must 
appear  either  clothed  or  not  clothed.  But  they  never 
appear  not  clothed — of  course, therefore,  they  are  oblig- 
ed to  appear  in  the  ghost  of  clothes  too.  That's  my 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  65 

exhaustive  mode  of  reasoning — all  creatures  are  either 
ghosts  or  non-ghosts,  lawyers  or  non-lawyers. 

I  wanted  to  call  his  name  Ben-tham  (instead  of 
Bent-ham,  the  pronunciation  they  give  it  in  England), 
as  being  less  French  and  more  English ;  and  rallied 
him  upon  what  I  affected  to  believe  a  corruption  of 
the  more  vulgar  name  of  Cruikshank — Bent-ham. 
But  he  had  another  and  a  better  root  by  far.  Ham  was 
an  abbreviation  of  hamlet,  a  small  village;  (30)  hence 
Bucking-ham.  There  were  two  little  villages  in  York- 
shire now  of  that  name,  he  said;  perhaps  he  intended 
to  say  Essex  or  Surry ;  for  there  is  a  hamlet  in  Sur- 
ry,  on  the  Thames,  not  more  than  a  dozen  miles  from 
Q.  S.P.,  which  is  called  Ham  ;  and  two  in  Essex,  one 
called  East-Ham,  six  or  eight  miles  from  London,  the 
other  West-Ham,  near  Stratford.  There  is  also  a 
town  of  the  same  name  in  France,  forty  or  fifty  miles 
from  Amiens,  on  the  Somme.  Two  others  might  be 
mentioned ;  that  is,  Bentheim,  a  county  of  Hanover, 
and  Bentheim,  a  town  in  Ireland,  in  the  county  of 
Bentheim, — if  it  were  only  to  remind  the  reader  of 
the  pleasant  wilfulness  of  Dr.  Franklin,  who  persisted 
in  deriving  his  name  from  Franklin,  a  small  farmer. 

In  the  course  of  the  week,  he  told  me  a  capital  story 
of  his  father,  who  got  seriously  offended  with  a  clerk 
in  some  public  office,  to  whom  he  had  never  done  a 
favour  in  his  life, — because  the  clerk  had  never  com- 
plimented him  with  any  of  the  government  paper  and 
stationary.  It  was  no  joke  neither,  said  he,  throwing 
up  his  white  hair  with  a  jerk  of  his  fore-finger,  and 
sticking  out  his  right  elbow  after  a  fashion  he  had 
fallen  into — a  fashion  peculiar  enough  to  identify  any 
man  alive,  though  not  to  be  described  on  paper  without 
a  drawing  ;  no  joke  neither,  for  he  charged  him  with 
it!  Perhaps  it  may  be  well  to  inform  the  reader,  that 
the  stationary-bill  of  the  British  government  is  made 

(30)  Properly  from  the  Saxon  Ham — for  a  house  or  farm. 

9 


66  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

to  cover  a  prodigious  quantity,  presented  by  all  the 
clerks  to  all  their  friends  and  acquaintances,  if  they 
like.  In  that  country  I  had  several  correspondents, 
who  never  wrote  me  on  any  other  than  government- 
paper;  and  to  this  day  letters  arrive  almost  always  on 
the  same  sort  of  sheet-franks. 

25.  Sunday.  Mr.  B.  sleeps  standing  after  dinner ; 
fell  once  he  says,  and  hurt  himself  on  the  elbows; 
the  approaches  of  sleep  are  extremely  delightful,  he 
adds,  being  half  asleep  at  the  time.  He  sits  up  in 
bed  in  the  morning  to  enjoy  the  approaches  of  sleep — 
not  to  sleep.  And  here  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  de- 
scribe the  bed.  The  philosopher  sleeps  in  a  bag,  and 
sometimes  with  his  coat  on;  the  bed  not  being  made 
up  for  a  month  together.  Somebody  had  pointed  out 
to  him  a  note  by  the  translator  of  Dumont's  Preuves 
Judiciaires  (p.  336),  in  which  the  translator  into  Eng- 
lish had  attacked  Mr.B.  as  profoundly  ignorant  of 
equity  procedure.  He  laughed  heartily  and  sincerely 
when  he  read  it — did  not  recollect  having  seen  it  be- 
fore, though  Mr.  Doane,  his  clever  secretary,  had  read 
it  to  him  when  it  first  appeared,  as  we  discovered 
when  Mr.  D.  came  up  to  tea. 

27th.  I  am  naturally  a  weak  mind,  said  he  to-day. 
All  that  can  be  said  for  me  is,  that  I  have  made  the 
most  of  it.  Charles  Butler  (alluding  to  Mr.  Butler, 
the  learned  editor  of  Littleton),  has  applied  to  Bow- 
ring  for  assistance  about  the  history  of  literature  in 
the  West ;  a  sort  of  literary  coxcomb,  though  a  good 
compiler,  added  he.  The  lord  chancellor  once  wrote 
him  a  letter,  which  he  got  framed  and  hung  up  in  his 
office. 

To-day  Col.  Young,  late  secretary  to  the  Marquis 
of  Hastings,  in  the  government  of  India,  dined  with 
us.  When  Mr.  B.  brought  us  together,  it  was  in  the 
following  way  : — Here  colonel' — here  N. ;  this  is  col. 
Young,  no  better  than  a  Scotchman;  that  is  J.  N., 
he's  no  better  than  a  Yankee.  Notwithstanding  this, 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  67 

however,  I  found  the  personage  introduced,  to  be  a 
very  superior  man. 

N.  B.  I  find  by  referring  to  my  diary,  that  I  have 
not  always  marked  the  date;  which  would  be  no 
otherwise  material  than  as  a  matter  of  curiosity  with 
a  very  few,  or  as  a  ground  of  corroboration  or  contra- 
diction. Where  the  dates  are  preserved,  1  shall  give 
them  hereafter;  in  every  other  case,  merely  copy  the 
memoranda. 

Mr.  Bentham  never  could  learn  to  dance, — it  was 
torture  to  him,  he  said  ;  and  yet  he  has  a  remarkably 
good  ear,  and  has  played  the  organ  with  a  masterly 
touch.  He  had  suffered  cruelly  once  when  a  boy  ; 
never  should  forget  it.  He  was  on  a  visit  some- 
where, and  of  course  on  his  good  behaviour.  A 
beautiful  child  was  there  without  a  partner;  he  had 
been  looking  at  her,  and  thought  her  the  prettiest 
girl  he  had  ever  seen.  At  last  somebody  asked  him 
to  dance  with  her ;  he  was  obliged  to  say  no — and 
was  ready  to  cut  his  own  throat. 

I   must  now  give  two  or  three  specimens  of  the 
peculiar  phraseology  at  Q.  S.  P.    Instead  of  saying  to 
the  secretary  on  my  left,  please  to  touch  the  bell,  or 
please  to   ring  it,   he   says  make-ringtion ;   (31)  and 
this,  not  merely  for  the  joke,  but  in   sober  earnest, 
though  intended  for  a  caricature  of  his  own'  theory. 
But  he,  and  the  secretary  on  my  left,  who  has  lately 
betaken  himself  to  the  church,  are  in  the  habit  of 
substituting  words,  which  though  synonymous  at  law, 
are  not  so  in  practice.     Instead  of  saying  a  rich  paste, 
they  say  an  opulent  paste ;  for  shortness,  they  say  bre- 
vity ;  for  veal-pie,  the  basis  of  that  pie  is  veal ;  for 
good  mutton,  virtuous  mutton  ;    for  pretty-good,  or 
apparently-good,  plausible  ;   and  so  with  I  know  not 
how  many  more  words ;  all  which  from  the  rnouth  of 
Mr.  B.  the  philosopher  and  the  humourist,  the  great 

(31)  The  slang  dictionary  has  ii— jangle  the  tinkler. 


68  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

and  good,  though  whimsical  old  man,  is  rather  divert- 
ing than  otherwise.  But  when  repeated  by  a  youth, 
and  with  imperturbable  gravity,  as  if  a  new  mode  of 
speech  were  to  be  learned  by  those  who  had  the 
honour  of  eating  at  the  table  of  his  preceptor,  it  was 
infinitely  diverting. 

Speaking  of  the  time  of  trouble,  the  reign  of  terror 
in  England,  when  the  ministry  plotted  and  counter- 
plotted with  a  gang  of  desperate  and  foolish  conspi- 
rators, till  the  latter  were  decoyed  within  the  reach 
of  a  law  whereby  most  of  them  were  put  to  death, 
he  said  that  he  himself  had  expected  every  day  to 
be  prosecuted  for  what  he  said  of  the  law,  the  judges, 
and  the  chancellor  of  England.  I  wonder  you  were 
not,  said  I.  I  became  a  bencher — that  saved  me — a 
bencher  of  Lincoln's  Inn — a — a — no  example  of  the 
prosecution  of  a  bencher.  What  is  a  bencher  pray? 
He  sits  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table  behind  a  screen, 
where  they  (the  benchers)  guttle  and  guzzle  out  of 
sight  of  the  commonalty,  who  pay  for  their  benefit. 

Jan.  7,  1826.  N.  said  he,  when  we  met  to-day  at 
dinner, — you  must  join  with  me  against  the  Holy  Alli- 
ance. That  I  will,  said  I,  laughing  at  the  serious- 
ness, with  which  he  repeated  his  original  proposition. 
Speaking  of  his  code,  the  constitutional  code  perhaps, 
or  that  which  was  preliminary  to  it,  and  sketched 
out  in  his  correspondence  with  Count  Toreno,  he 
observed  that  Bowring  had  objected  to  the  passage 
where  he  had  found  fault  with  the  Spaniards  for  mak- 
ing their  representatives  non-eligible.  I  was  very 
hard  on  them  there — said  he — a — a — I  have  changed 
now ;  just  found  a  substitute,  so  as  to  retain  all  the 
experience  without  any  of  the  risk.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  explain  the  object  of  what  he  denominated 
the  continuation-committee — an  admirable  expedient 
by  the  way,  and  worthy  of  profound  consideration  here. 

Mr.  Doane  plays  the  organ  a  few  minutes  before 
dinner,  while  Mr.  B.  is  fetching  his  walk  in  the  gar- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  69 

den.  Mr.  D.  is  very  fond  of  music,  and  has  no  other 
opportunity  to  try  over  a  modern  air ;  as  the  philoso- 
pher, though  passionately  fond  of  it  also,  cannot  en- 
dure either  Von  Weber  or  Rossini — Der  Freischutz  or 
the  opera,  or  any  thing  indeed  but  Handel.  When 
this  same  secretary  was  quite  a  boy — he  is  not  more 
than  five  and  twenty  now, — happening  to  be  at  work 
on  a  favourite  passage  for  Mr.  B.  a  stop  got  out  of 
order,  and  kept  squeaking  till  he  lost  all  patience  and 
charged  the  poor  lad  with  playing  false — the  youth  re- 
plied— the  philosopher  repeated  the  charge — the  stop 
squeaked  on — there  was  no  stop  to  it,  as  we  say  in  Ame- 
rica— a  quarrel  ensued — the  high-spirited  youth  took 
advantage  of  a  hint,  and  with  a  note  for  his  father 
walked  off.  But  the  quarrel  was  short ;  both  were 
sorry — each  loved  the  other,  and  the  benevolent  old 
man  could  not  well  do  without  the  society  of  the 
good-humoured,  intelligent  boy.  A  letter  or  two 
passed — a  brief  interview  followed  between  third  par- 
ties— another,  tears  on  the  part  of  the  philosopher, 
and  perhaps  on  the  part  of  the  boy,  and  by  the  end 
of  the  day  a  complete  reconciliation,  which  has  never 
been  disturbed  since. 

When  Mr.  B.  goes  to  bed,  he  leaves  a  watch  upon 
the  table,  which,  at  a  preconcerted  signal,  is  wound 
up  and  carried  to  him  by  the  secretary,  whose  turn 
it  may  be  to  sit  up  and  read  him  to  sleep;  an  office  per- 
formed for  him  now  altogether  by  the  embryo-church- 
man. While  I  was  there  I  took  it  upon  myself  two 
or  three  times,  and  always  found  him  fast  asleep  at 
the  bottom  of  the  first  page  at  furthest,  and  absolute- 
ly incapable  of  perceiving  whether  I  read  the  same 
passage  over  and  over  again  or  not,  before  I  was  half 
through.  Nevertheless,  he  will  not  acknowledge  that 
he  loves  to  be  read  to  sleep — oh  no  !  but  he  wishes  to 
save  time.  Having  no  leisure  himself  to  read — none 
to  hear  others  read,  save  when  he  is  either  asleep, 
or  dropping  asleep,  all  this  economy  of  his  time  and 


70  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

waste  of  another's,  our  codifier  and  reformer  of  all 
sorts  of  bad  husbandry,  unthriftiness,  and  prodigality 
in  states,  persuaded  himself  to  be  good  management 
in  a  household. 

I  have  sometimes  thought,  said  he,  this  evening, 
with  a  look  of  solemnity, — whether  or  no  I  was  not 
mad.  If  I  am  not — such  things  will  come  across  our 
thoughts  now  and  then — (To  be  sure,  said  I)  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  must  be  so.  No,  said  I — their  not  be- 
lieving as  you  do,  in  cases  which  are  abundantly  clear, 
proves  not  that  they  are  mad,  but  that  they  have  not 
considered  the  matter  as  you  have.  True,  true — 
good  God,  good  God — yes,  yes,  to  be  sure  ;  besides, 
for  forty  years  there  was  nobody  to  attack  me,  except 
with  ridicule  and  misrepresentation — except  in  the 
case  I  told  you  of,  about  eligibility,  where  Bowring 
opposed  me — and  prevailed.  I  changed  my  opinion 
there. 

How  did  your  father  speak  of  those  works  ?  He 
had  just  taken  down  the  Defence  of  Usury  from  the 
shelf,  and  mentioned  that  the  copy  had  belonged  to 
his  father.  It  was  full  of  letters,  and  a  review  from 
the  Monthly  was  wafered  into  it.  I'll  tell  you,  said 
he,  with  great  eagerness.  Jerry  said  he,  on  his 
death-bed,  Jerry,  you  have  made  a  philosopher  of 
me. — I  suppose  I  smiled,  for  the  idea  of  the  old 
white-haired  man  before  me  ever  having  been  called 
Jerry — Jerry^  tickled  me  prodigiously. — He  made 
another  will,  and  left  out  the  name  of  Christ.  I  did 
more  than  smile  now  ;  I  laughed.  The  idea  of  tak- 
ing that  for  a  measure  of  improvement  in  philosophy 
was  yet  more  diverting  than  the  other;  but  he  was 
quite  serious. 

He  was  present  when  Wedderbourne  insulted  Frank- 
lin, who,  out  of  compliment  to  the  occasion,  appeared 
in  a  magnificent  court-dress.  The  reader  will  remem- 
ber that  Franklin  said,  when  asked  what  he  intended 
to  do,  as  he  stood  at  the  door,  '  touched  with  noble 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  71 

anger' — His  master  shall  pay  for  it ;  and  his  master 
did  pay  for  it, — for  the  next  time  the  doctor  wore 
that  same  dress,  he  was  at  Versailles,  with  the  treaty 
between  France  and  the  United  States  of  America 
lying  before  him.  He  remembered  Franklin,  though 
they  were  not  acquainted  then  ;  but  he  remembered 
nothing  of  the  court-dress,  though  he  certainly  could 
not  say  that  Franklin  did  not  appear  in  one  at  the 
time  he  was  so  brutally  and  fiercely  attacked.  But 
he  had  it  from  one  of  the  British  plenipotentiaries  at 
Versailles  at  the  time  of  the  signing  of  the  treaty 
(Lord  St.  Helens,  I  believe),  that  Franklin  was  not 
ready  to  sign  for  several  days  after  the  rest ;  and 
at  length  it  came  out,  in  some  way  or  other,  that  he 
had  been  waiting  for  his  coat  from  London  ;  the  only 
little  thing  he  ever  did — his  only  blot,  added  Bent- 
ham.  What  if  any  thing  had  happened  to  prevent 
the  signature  of  the  treaty  during  those  three  or 
four  days,  while  the  minister  of  America  was  wait- 
ing for  a  particular  dress  to  sign  it  in  ?  What  would 
have  been  the  consequences  to  the  reputation  of  Dr. 
Franklin — for  good  sense — or  good  husbandry  ?  And 
what  might  have  been  the  consequences  to  our  coun- 
try, and  to  the  whole  world  ? 

When  our  philosopher  was  a  young  man,  he  was 
very  unsocial;  to  cure  him,  his  father  managed  to  have 
him  admitted  into  a  musical  society,  where  he  used 
to  go  and  sit  in  a  corner  week  after  week,  without 
opening  his  mouth !  At  Ford-Abbey — a  country-seat 
he  took  by  the  year,  as  much  on  account  of  Mr.  Mill, 
who  had  a  large  family  which  he  did  not  know  what  to 
do  with,  as  on  account  of  himself,  I  dare  say — he  used 
to  fiddle  with  the  exciseman,  to  the  great  marvel  of 
the  latter.  He  used  to  avoid  his  father  after  his  re- 
turn from  these  convivial  meetings,  and  would  sit 
twirling  his  thumbs  by  the  hour  together.  At  last, 
regularly,  his  father  would  put  the  following  question, 
and  get  the  following  reply.  Why  Jerry!  have 


72  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

you  nothing  to  say  to  your  poor  dear  father?     What 
shall  I  say,  father! 

Of  this  father's  second  wife,  the  mother  of  the 
present  Lord  Colchester,  he  used  to  speak  uniformly, 
as  Mrs.  Jezabel — she  always  called  him,  he  said,  Mr. 
Jerry.  She  would  drink  the  roast  mutton  gravy  out 
of  the  dish,  before  it  went  below — a  fact  which  I 
have  no  doubt  had  a  decided  influence  upon  our  phi- 
losopher's future  estimalion  of  the  worth  of  such  gra- 
vy ;  for  even  to  this  day,  it  is  the  only  thing  whose 
distribution  he  watches  at  the  table.  Every  man  to 
his  spoonful,  is  his  motto  here.  He  used  to  sleep 
with  his  granny,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  treating 
herself  to  the  cold  mutton  for  supper,  and  to  an  ap- 
ple, of  which  he  was  allowed  the  skin.  Much  of  his 
inflexible  honesty  now,  in  the  distribution  of  fat  and 
lean,  crust  and  crumb,  skin  and  core,  to  this  day,  I 
do  believe  in  my  soul  may  be  attributed  to  this  ma- 
nagement of  his  dear  old  granny.  His  partialities 
too — how  many  of  them  are  traceable  to  the  same 
fact.  He  loved  the  skin  yet,  and  would  rather  eat 
the  skin  of  grapes  now  than  the  pulp,  if  he  were  not 
forbidden  by  the  doctors.  I  knew  of  a  case,  and 
mentioned  it,  where  almost  every  member  of  a  large 
school,  as  I  was  told  by  one  of  the  young  ladies,  after 
she  had  got  to  be  the  mother  of  young  ladies  herself, 
grew  fond  of  stale  bread — bread  a  month  or  two  old 
by  Shrewsbury  clock,  and  all  dried  up — entirely  from 
seeing  the  head-instructress  put  away  her  crusts  with 
great  care,  in  the  holes  and  corners  of  the  house,  and 
there  leave  them  (to  be  stolen  by  the  scholars  most  of 
the  time,)  till  they  \vere  almost  incapable  of  being 
eaten,  and  then  "  munch,  and  munch,  and  munch," 
like  the  sailor's  wife  in  Macbeth,  till  every  child's 
mouth  watered  that  saw  her. 

He  dined  with  the  celebrated  Erskine  one  day, 
who  wished  to  see  him  on  account  of  his  Fragment 
on  Government,  (which  Mr.  B.  has  just  heard  for 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  73 

the  first  time,  was  reprinted  years  and  years  ago  in 
Dublin).  Erskine  was  poor — very  poor;  he  was  in 
the  office  of  a  special-pleader  at  the  time.  Although 
it  was  cold  weather,  he  wore  a  silk  summer-dress ;  he 
had  served  not  only  at  sea,  but  on  shore  as  a  soldier. 
He  knew  how  to  cajole  a  jury;  Mr.  B.  heard  him  in 
the  celebrated  case  of  Lord  George  Gordon. 

He  frequently  referred  to  Dumont,  and  observed 
to-day  that  he  was  a  clergyman;  that  he  received  a 
pension  from  the  British  government  of  £400,  in  the 
form  of  a  clerkship,  now  augmented  to  £500  by  Sid- 
mouth,  under  pretence  that  his  works  were  the  cause. 
Mr.  Bentham  was  offered  a  pension — the  amount  not 
named — M.  Dumont  himself  was  the  bearer  of  the 
offer.  Bentham  \vas  angry  ;  arid  'Dumont  went 
away  with  his  tail  between  his  legs.' 

My  father,  said  he  to-day, — speaking  with  that  air 
of  pleasantry  which  so  distinguished  him,  when  he 
knew  that  he  was  going  to  affix  a  label  forever  to  a 
subject — my  father  had  two  ways  of  settling  every 
difficult  question.  He  would  look  thoughtful  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  he  would  say — it  is  a  mystery  ;  the 
preliminary  of  the  second  case  did  not  vary  much,  but 
the  words  were  different.  After  looking  very  thought- 
ful as  before,  he  would  say — it  is  infatuation.  So  that 
whatever  was  not  a  mystery,  was  infatuation  ;  and 
whatever  was  not  infatuation,  was  a  mystery. 

His  father  had  two  pet  phrases  of  great  worth  to 
him  in  the  hurry  of  business.  He  used  to  say  of 
somebody,  whom  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  seeing, 
that  he  had  taken  himself  unto  his  own  hands — as  if 
that  were  a  thing  to  reproach  him  for.  If  any  body 
should  propose  to  make  money  by  his  help,  though 
without  any  cost  or  trouble  to  him,  or  any  sort  of  ac- 
countability on  his  part,  legal  or  moral,  he  would  re- 
fuse with  great  dignity,  saying — he  was  not  to  be  made 
a  property  of. 

His  father  had  a  small  library,  which  he  kept  lock- 

10 


74  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

ed  up.  As  he  could  never  unite  the  idea  of  amuse- 
ment with  that  of  instruction,  he  would  not  allow 
Jerry  to  read  any  thing  that  amused  him.  But  Jerry 
got  hold  of  Clarissa  one  day,  and  he  never  stopped 
till  he  had  finished  the  story.  Richardson  was  a 
great  favourite  with  him — to  this  day,  he  likes  to 
read  a  novel  in  five  or  six  large  octavos. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  75 


CHAPTER    V. 

Dr.  Parr — Mr.  Parkes — Col.  Stanhope — Dr.  Maculloch — Sympathy — Penal 
Code — Helvetius — Relatives  on  the  side  of  the  Mother — Poetry — Reading 
to  Sleep — Singular  Habit  of  throwing  up  his  Hair — Ghosts — Marked  and 
Sheared — Bed-chamber  Habils — Mr.  Smith,  M.  P. — Breakfast — Fruit  before 
Dinner — His  Bed — Servants — Theory  and  Practice  at  War — Bowring — Sir 
F.  Burdett — Sir  Samuel  Romilly — Cobbett — Mr.  B.'s  Father — Mother-in- 

Law — Quarrel  with Reform  in  the  House — Rhyming — Love 

of  Order — Humanity — Bentham  on  Style. 

DR.  PARR  used  to  smoke  a  pipe  whenever  he 
came  to  see  Mr.  Bentham,  a  practice  which  the  lat- 
ter abhorred.  He  would  either  call  for  his  pipe,  or 
come  provided  with  one,  and  pull  it  out  immediately 
after  dinner.  I  should  not  suppose  the  Philosopher 
would  like  it,  said  I  to  the  secretary  on  my  right. 
He  was  obliged  to  like  it,  was  the  reply;  he  could 
not  have  the  doctor  on  any  other  terms.  The  doctor 
used  to  call  Mr.  Bentham  Master  Jerry,  to  his  head! 

Mr.  Joseph  Parkes  (32),  a  solicitor  from  Birming- 
ham, who  married  an  American  wife,  (the  daughter  of 
Dr.  Priestley)  dined  at  Q.  S.  P.  to-day.  Mr.  P.  tells 
me  that  when  he  was  a  boy,  Dr.  Parr  told  him  to 
read  the  works  of  Bentham — as  the  greatest  man  that 
ever  lived;  and  that  not  long  before,  a  preacher  of  the 
gospel,  a  very  clever  man  and  a  fine  scholar,  who  was 
not  suspected  by  Mr.  P.  to  know  any  thing  of  Bent- 
ham,  in  reply  to  some  questions  about  what  book  for 
the  last  hundred  years  had  done  most  for  the  mind,  and 
showed  most  power  and  originality,  answered  without 
hesitation — Bentham's  Morals  and  Legislation  ;  add- 

(32)  Mr.  P.  is  the  Solicitor  of  Warwickshire,  author  of  the  History  of  a 
Court  of  Chancery,  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Brougham,  in  his  celebrated  speech 
on  the  state  of  English  law. 


76  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

ing,  that  Dr.  Parr  had  told  him  to  read  it  many  years 
before;  that  he  read  it  accordingly,  and  had  never 
had  but  one  opinion  of  it  since. 

I  repeated  all  this  to  Mr.  Bentham,  who  laughed 
and  chuckled,  and  then,  by  way  of  a  set-off,  added — 
Why,  wrhy — a — a — only  think — a — a — Doctor — a — 
a — Parr  gave  a  list  to  a  young  lord,  who  wanted  to 
be  directed  in  his  reading,  of  books  for  him  to  read. 
(I  preserve  the  style  here  exactly.)  Among  the  rest 
there  was  Algernon  Sydney  on  Government— he  was 
to  read  him  over  ten  times, — and  De  Lolme  and 
Blackstone,  and  all  the  rest  of  that  class — a — a — 
(laughing  a  little  here,  a  very  little)  and  no  mention 
made  of  me.  I  tried  to  smooth  it  off, — perhaps,  said 
I,  the  doctor  was  like  certain  tutors,  theologians,  and 
lawyers,  who  are  paid  so  much  a  year  to  oversee — or 
in  other  words  to  overlook — the  reading  of  youth  ; 
and  whose  catalogue  of  what  should  be  read,  is  but  a 
duplicate  catalogue  of  the  books  they  happen  to  have 
in  their  own  library.  They  are  acquainted  with  no 
other — and  why  should  a  younger  man  wish  to  do 
otherwise  than  they  did  ?  Dr.  Parr  was  rather  su- 
perficial in  such  matters  ;  and  may  have  recommend- 
ed the  book  for  two  other  reasons — to  avoid  making 
himself  unpopular  as  your  admirer,  and  to  give  the 
young  lord  stuff  that  he  would  be  able  to  digest — milk 
for  babes,  lion's  meat  for  men,  pap  for  the  nobility. 
He  appeared  tolerably  satisfied  with  this,  and  the  sub- 
ject was  dropped. 

Col.  Stanhope — Leicester  Stanhope,  the  friend  of 
Byron,  dined  here  to-day  ;  a  pleasant,  gentlemanly 
man,  much  overrated  by  the  philosopher  of  Queen- 
Square  Place.  Some  conversation  took  place  about 
a  mutual  friend,  Dr.  Maculloch — the  geologist,  che- 
mist, magazine-writer,  Scotchman,  traveller,  &LC.F  &c. 
certainly  one  of  the  cleverest  men  of  the  day,  take 
him  altogether.  He  is  affronted,  with  me,  said  Mr. 
Bentham,  because  I  told  him  that  people — other  peo- 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  77 

pie,  thought  him  too  diffuse.  And  when  we  pay  by 
the  page,  it  is  natural  enough  that  a  man  should  make 
the  most  of  what  he  has  to  say.  He  spoke  here  as 
the  proprietor  of  the  Westminster  Review,  which  he 
had  established  and  continued  at  a  heavy  expense. 

To-day  I  observed  an  anxiety  to  please  at  dinner, 
which  I  had  not  observed  before — a  sort  of  nervous- 
ness which  prepared  me  for  something  new.  As  soon 
as  we  were  alone  together,  and  he  had  begun  to  take 
his  post-prandial  vibrations — that  is,to  walk  to  and  fro 
in  the  narrow  ditch  between  the  outer  wall  of  the 
room,  and  the  raised  platform  described  before,  the 
symptoms  increased;  and  by  and  by,  he  made  a  full 
stop,  and  turning  to  me,  though  without  looking  me  in 
the  face,  began  thus.  My  dear  N —  I  am  going  to  tell 
you  something  that  has  been  in  my  mind  now  for  three 
months.  At  this,  I  began  to  prick  up  my  ears.  He 
proceeded — Yes  and  I  have  been  desiring  to  tell  you  ; 
you  know  my  sympathy  for  every  mind  and  every  body 
— a — a — .  At  length  he  came  to  the  point;  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  spitting  a  great  deal,  and  for  want  of  a 
spitoon  or  spit-box,  he  used  the  article  mentioned  be- 
fore. And  having  taken  it  into  his  head  that  I  might 
have'  a  similar  inclination,  and  balk  it  from  a  fear  of 
giving  trouble,  he  had  concluded  after  turning  it  over 
in  his  mind  for  three  months,  to  mention  it  to  me  in 
this  way,  with  unspeakable  solemnity.  It  was  quite 
a  relief  to  me  I  confess,  when  he  had  unburthened 
his  mind — perhaps  greater  to  me  than  to  him  after 
the  preliminaries  were  over. 

April  2.  Speaking  of  his  Penal  Code,  he  said,  there 
is  nothing  beyond  that.  After  which  he  led  off  in 
fine  style  over  the  reminiscences  of  his  youth.  Some- 
thing I  met  with  in  Helvetius  (33)  made  a  great  im- 

(33)  Helvetius  de  1'  Esprit,  was  an  attack  on  religious  principles  in  general  : 
it  questioned  the  foundation  of  all  religions,  and  left  the  reader  to  draw  con- 
clusions and  make  inferences.  It  came  out  before  Emilius  appeared.  See 


78  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

pression  upon  me — a  friar  goes  to  Rome  to  dispute 
about  the  right  of  wearing  a  particular  dress.  Now 
quoth  Helvetius,  who  knows  but  that  friar  may  have 
shown  as  much  acuteness,  power  of  reasoning  and 
knowledge  as  the  profoundest  statesman  or  the  great- 
est warrior  that  ever  lived  ?  Very  true — that  set  me 
thinking  about  legislation  as  the  greatest  of  all  en- 
quiries— nothing  above  that  you  know.  But  you 
had  already  been  occupied  in  a  similar  way  ?  said 
I.  Oh  yes  yes  yes;  I  began  to  think  of  doing 
good  before  I  was  seven  years  old,  reading  Telema- 
chtis.  And  off  he  lanched  into  a  delightful  account 
of  his  relations  on  the  mother's  side.  Here  too  the 
very  language  of  Mr.  B.  is  preserved.  I  remember 
then  hearing  that  the  relations  on  my  mother's  side 
were  remarkably  virtuous,  and  I  remember  sitting 
under  the  tomb-stone  of  my  great-grandfather,  hear- 
ing of  his  beneficence.  He  was  a  parson  ;  by  his 
frugality  and  good  management,  he  secured  a  little 

Condorcet's  Voltaire,  condensed.  The  author  Claude  Adrian  Helvetius  was 
born  in  1715 — died  in  1791. 

The  fundamental  maxim  of  the  work  was  que  Pinter*  t  personnel  doit  itrc 
V unique  base  de  la  morale — A  maxim,  says  a  celebrated  French  author,  which 
would  destroy  all  virtue,  maxime  qui  detruiroit  toute  vertu.  Such  were  the 
crude  notions  of  utility,  when  Helvetius  broke  ground  preparatory  to  storming 
the  chief  bulwarks  of  error — bulwarks  which  Paley  tried  to  sap,  and  which 
Bentham  carried  by  assault.  See  the  chapter  on  Utility  however. 

Voltaire  (in  his  Queries  upon  the  Encyclopedia,)  says  of  the  work  de  1'Es- 
prit  qu'il  est  un  peu  confus,  qu'il  manque  de  m  thod  (a  great  error)  et  qu'il 
est  gate  par  des  contes  indignes  d'un  livre  de  philosophic.  And  this,  although 
the  author  was  a  pupil  of  his,  although  a  very  sincere  and  hearty  friendship 
existed  between  them,  and  the  preceptor  had  borne  the  following  testimony  to 
his  poetry,  which  was  about  as  bad  as  poetry  could  well  be  in  French. 

Vos  vers  semblent  Merits  par  la  main  d'Apollon, 
Vouz  n'en  avez  pour  fruit  que  ma  reconnaissance  ; 
Votre  livre  est  dicte  par  la  saine  raison 
Partez  vite,  et  quittez  la  France. 

Another  great  object  with  Helvetius  was  to  show  that  La  sensibilile  physique 
est  a-la-fois  1'unique  source  de  nos  idees  et  de  nos  jugements,  et  qu'enfin  juger 
n'est  que  sentir.  To  judge  is  only  to  feel.  Bentham's  leading  principle  is 
the  same  in  fact.  Rousseau  in  his  Emile  combats  the  doctrine,  without  men- 
tioning the  author  by  name  who  was  then  virtually  proscribed  for  this  very  work. 
Tu  veux,  dit-il  tu  veux  en  vain  t'avilir,  ton  genie  depose  contre  tes  principes  ; 
ton  cceur  bienfaisant  d  ment  ta  doctrine,  et  1'abus  meme  de  tes  facultes  preuve 
leur  excellence  en  depit  de  toi. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  79 

fortune  for  his  children.  He  had  a  son,  a  book- 
seller, who  published  Tiudal's  Christianity  as  old 
as  the  Creation — ever  see  it !  No.  Oh,  yes,  yes — 
made  a  free-thinker  of  me  before  I  was  thirteen. 
Before  that,  my  father  took  a  Frenchman  into  the  fa- 
mily and  gave  him  his  board  for  instructing  me ;  he 
was  a  free-thinker;  I  read  some  good  books  at  a  very 
early  age  in  consequence — Voltaire.  I  remember  a 
scene  of  sensibility  before  I  was  two  years  old.  Ah, 
said  I — how  was  that  ?  Yes,  yes — did  I  never  tell 
you  of  it?  Never.  Oh  yes, — a — a — I  was  on  a  visit 
to — a — a — a  place  which  he  described  as  now  deso- 
late, the  very  earth  laid  bare  ;  went  to  visit  it  lately 
with  some  friends — nothing  left  of  it.  After  this  he 
proceeded  with  the  anecdote  of  his  babyhood.  Two 
persons  gave  him  to  eat ;  he  eat  till  he  could  eat  no 
more.  A  third  offered  something  ;  he  could  not  eat 
it,  and  so  he  cried;  cried  he  remembers  now,  because 
of  the  distress  he  felt  at  the  idea  of  ingratitude  ; 
gooseberry-pie  was  one  thing  they  had. 

In  his  penal  code  there  is  a  provision  for  injury 
done  to  friendship,  by  speaking  ill  of  one  known  to 
be  a  friend  of  the  party  spoken  to.  Who  ever  heard 
of  such  a  thing  before  ?  said  he.  How  much  it  shows 
of  a  man's  character.  How  much  indeed  !  for  it  was 
a  downright  piece  of  self-deception,  calculated  to  pre- 
vent the  truth  from  appearing  against  anybody  whom 
he  had  favoured  with  his  friendship.  Why  should  a 
man  shrink  from  any  communication  about  him  to 
his  friend  or  to  him  about  his  friend  ?  What  injury 
could  it  do  to  a  friend  or  a  friendship  worth  having  ? 

I  never  knew  the  sage  of  Queen-Square  Place  in 
a  pleasanter  humor, — brimfull  of  joke  and  laugh,  he 
rallied  me  not  a  little  for  having  made  poetry,  and 
in  the  course  of  our  talk  repeated  the  following  lines, 
with  a  gravity  and  stateliness  never  to  be  sufficiently 
admired.  I  shall  give  what  I  can  of  the  very  cadence 
he  observed. 


80  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

Two  children  sliding — on  the  ice, 

All  on  a  summer's  day; 

It  so  fell  out  (very  slow)  they  all  fell  in  (pause) — 

The  rest  they  ran  away. 

Now — (increased  solemnity) — had  these  children  staid  at  home, 

Or  slid  upon  dry  ground, 

(A  pursing  out  of  the  mouth  here,  and  a  profound  shake  of  the  head.) 

Ten  thousand  pounds  to  one  pen-ny  ! 

They  had  not  all — been  drowned. 

At  length  we  parted.  Good  night,  sir,  said  I — 
well  then  good  night  to  you !  if  you  come  to  that. 

Mr.  D.  told  me  that  when  Mr.  J.  F.  C.  the  other  se- 
cretary, went  home  to  see  his  family,  which  was  about 
once  a  week,  and  it  came  to  his  turn  to  read  Mr.  Bent- 
ham  asleep,  he  used  to  do  it  in  a  jiffy,  simply  by  read- 
ing the  same  page  over  and  over  again,  in  precisely 
the  same  tone  of  voice,  without  ever  troubling  himself 
to  turn  over  ;  it  was  all  the  same  to  the  codifier. 

Mr.  Bentham,  I  observe  now,  has  a  way  of  walk- 
ing with  one  leg  held  up  stiff, — his  wooden-leg  they 
call  it  here,  though  nothing  is  the  matter  with  it : 
when  he  is  a  little  disturbed  you  may  hear  that  leg 
stumping  about  overhead,  like  that  which  Irving  de- 
scribes in  the  history  of  Peter  Van  Stuyvesant.  He 
has  also  a  habit  of  sitting  with  one  shoulder  high- 
er than  the  other — ditto  one  eye-brow — ditto  one 
half  of  his  under  lip,  as  you  may  see  it  in  the  broad 
caricature  of  an  English  sailor.  All  this  may  be 
owing  to  the  deafness  of  one  ear ;  the  eye-brow,  the 
lip,  and  the  shoulders  would  be  naturally  affected  by 
the  muscles  of  the  face  and  the  habit  of  turning 
to  hear.  He  sits  too  with  the  back  of  one  hand 
resting  in  the  palm  of  the  other ;  he  should  be  so 
painted  ;  for  these  are  confirmed  and  essentially  cha- 
racteristic habits  with  him.  Another  which  cannot 
be  painted  though  it  may  be  described,  has  been  al- 
luded to  before.  Every  minute  or  two  he  is  in  the 
habit  of  throwing  back  the  hair  from  his  face  and 
neck,  by  a  singular  motion  of  the  left  hand.  He 
projects  the  left  elbow  horizontally,  into  the  most 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  81 

awkward  of  positions  ;  then  curves  the  whole  fore-arm 
like  a  child  learning  to  eat  with  a  large  spoon,  crooks 
his  fore-finger,  so  as  nearly  to  complete  the  circle 
half-described  by  the  arm,  and  then  throws  up  the 
hair  with  a  jerk.  This  he  will  do  every  half-minute, 
while  engaged  in  conversation  or  walking  in  the 
wind.  It  has  a  laughable  effect  in  the  view  of  a 
stranger — he  would  mistake  the  right-arm  of  the 

O  .5^ 

sage  for  a  sort  of  crank,  put  in  motion  by  the  foot 
below  as  he  walked. 

He  told  me  to-day  that  he  was  born  14-15  Feb. 
1747 — 8  ;  when  the  old-style  was  changed  there  was 
a  change  in  the  year  as  well  as  in  the  day ;  it  began 
either  in  February  or  March  before.  I  preserve  the 
very  language  of  his  explanation  here. 

He  shuts  the  flap  of  the  book-case  to  hide  the  hole 
in  the  floor,  which  is  occupied  by  the  player  at  the 
organ ;  the  darkness  being  rather  unpleasant  to  the 
philosopher,  he  affects  to  believe  it  full  of  ghosts — 
not  seriously  to  be  sure,  but  more  than  half-serious- 
ly.  He  sleeps  in  his  coat  now — having  ordered  the 
flaps  to  be  cut  off,  which  are  too  warm  for  the 
night,  and  bring  on  the  heat  and  itching  of  the  skin, 
with  which  he  is  afflicted  after  dinner — the  devil 
he  calls  it.  Having  drawn  a  line  down  each  side 
of  the  middle-seam,  with  a  bit  of  chalk,  he  has  or- 
dered a  strip  of  the  cloth  to  be  cut  out  and  a  cord 
to  be  let  in,  like  the  lacing  of  stays,  to  keep  his 
back-bone  cool  :  D. — the  mischievous  dog  he  em- 
ployed for  this  purpose — having  cut  off  the  flaps  of 
the  coat  and  ripped  it  up  in  the  back,  now  added  the 
initials  of  the  philosopher's  name,  as  if  to  provide 
against  his  going  astray, — putting  them  in  large  white 
letters  in  the  very  middle  of  the  back.  When  I 
mentioned  it,  saying — If  you  escape  now,  sir,  you  will 
be  brought  home  ;  instead  of  -being  offended,  he  laugh- 
ed, said  it  was  a  foolish  joke,  and  made  the  secretary 
rub  it  off.  Such  a  figure  no  mortal  ever  saw  before 
11 


82  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

out  of  a  mad-house.  I  cannot  think  of  it  to  this  day 
without  laughing.  I  can  see  him  now,  it  is  the  four- 
teenth of  June,  thermometer  at  76°  ; — There  he  goes 
with  a  pair  of  thick  leather  gloves  on,  woollen  stock- 
ings rolled  up  over  his  knees  outside,  his  coat-tail 
shaved  away  like  a  sailor's  round-about,  and  stooping, 
with  his  reverend  rump,  pushed  out  like  that  of  a 
young  chicken.  I  made  a  sketch  of  his  figure,  but 
am  half  afraid  to  publish  it.  He  sleeps  now  with 
his  feet  in  a  bag.  On  some  occasion,  wanting  an  im- 
provement in  the  shape  of  his  bed,  he  told  the  car- 
penter to  jump  in,  so  that  he  could  judge  for  himself 
what  was  wanted.  In  the  fellow  jumped,  shoes  and 
all  covered  with  rnud, — No  idea  I  could  sleep  in  such 
a  place,  added  our  philosopher  with  the  most  divert- 
ing simplicity  on  hearing  the  fact  mentioned.  I  could 
not  help  thinking  of  his  regular  ablutions  every  night, 
and  of  the  cleanliness  insisted  upon  in  the  Panopticon. 

To-day  he  had  invited  Mr.  John  Smith,  M.  P.,  the 
banker,  to  dine  with  him  ;  has  a  return  of  the  itching. 
I  give  his  very  words  here.  Sent  for  Smith  (scratch- 
ing away)  sent  for  him — a — a — .  Good  God,  good 
God — a — a — .  God  forgive  me  ;  very  bad  indeed 
(scratching  more  violently)  wonder  he  don't  reply. 
Very  bad,  very — didn't  send  it  to  the  office,  no  sleep 
at  all — sent  time  enough  to  hear — could'nt  sleep; 
that  yankee  there,  nodding  to  me — see  Smith.  Good 
God — a — a — great  influence  ;  pimple  or  two  here, 
(searching  his  bosom  with  an  ivory  paper-cutter),  two 
Richard,  two,  &c.  &c. 

I  hear  to  day,  though  I  never  knew  it  before,  that 
he  takes  two  cups  of  strong  coffee  in  bed  every  morn- 
ing ;  he  began  with  one,  but  kept  increasing,  till  now 
he  drinks  two,  still  persuading  himself  that  he  has  not 
yielded  a  hair's  breadth  to  the  habit:  he  takes  one  or 
two  more  at  twelve  o'clock  ;  breakfasts  from  twelve 
to  three,  in  two  rounds  of  toast,  two  rounds  of  bread- 
and-butter,  a  crumpet,  a  muffin,  and  a  large  pot  of 
tea ;  dines  at  half-past  six. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  83 

With  all  his  regard  for  the  comfort  of  others  how- 
ever, and  with  all  his  undeniable  and  active  sympathy, 
he  sometimes,  though  very  rarely,  appears  to  be  quite 
forgetful  of  others.  One  day  Mr.  L).,  Mr.  C.  (the 
other  secretary)  and  myself,  had  been  exercising  till 
we  were  as  hungry  as  tigers.  We  were  all  complain- 
ing of  the  lateness  of  the  hour — at  last  we  were  sum- 
moned. Up  we  go,  and  sit  twisting  our  thumbs, 
while  Mr.  B.  goes  to  work  on  his  mealy  potatoe, — 
the  first  thing  he  eats  at  dinner,  and  that  which  he 
appears  to  enjoy  most ;  that  over,  we  go  to  the 
soup,  he  with  his  hunger  partially  allayed,  perhaps 
with  fruit,  before  the  dinner  was  served,  (34) — we 
ready  to  eat  each  other.  After  that,  we  still  yearn- 
ing for  the  meat,  he  orders  up  the  gooseberry-pie, 
large  enough  to  fill  a  half-peck  measure — and  eats 
about  a  fourth-part  of  it.  At  last  I  lose  all  patience, 
and  turn  away,  while  he  is  eating  slowly,  the  junior 
secretary  reading  the  middle  of  a  story  aloud,  the  first 
part  of  which  had  been  read  to  him  at  breakfast, 
and  we  sucking  our  thumbs.  I  had  half  a  mind  to 
drop  a  remark  about  the  table-habits  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
the  twenty  cups  of  tea,  &c.  &c. — you  might  have 
turned  the  new-river  through  him,  if  it  were  tinctur- 
ed with  Bohea — but  I  was  not  in  the  humor  for  plea- 
santry, and  forbore.  Such  things  did  not  often  occur; 
he  was  generally  the  kindest  and  most  attentive,  and 
self-denying  of  hosts. 

I  am  told  to-day  that  he  has  his  bed  made  only 
when  he  changes  the  sheets,  that  is,  about  once  a 
month — sometimes  not  for  six  weeks  ;  that  coffee  has 
been  spilt  on  those  he  now  sleeps  in — that  it  is  all 
spotted  and  discoloured  with  his  fleecy  hosiery,  which 
he  wears  to  bed  with  him,  though  wet  and  muddy ; 
and  that  sometimes  other  droll  accidents  occur,  which 
added  to  his  peculiar  night-dress,  the  truncated  cloth- 

(rl4)  Dr.  Holyoke,  who  lived  to  the  age  of  101,  used  to  eat  a  good  deal  of 
ripe  fruit,  and  always  just  before  dinner.     So  does  Mr.  Bentham. 


84  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

coat,  and  the  bag  for  his  feet,  are  indeed  examples 
of  idiosyncracy  not  often  to  be  met  with. 

But  the  manner  in  which  he  was  treated  by  his 
own  servants  and  particularly  by  a  fat  house-keeper, 
who  had  been  with  him  for  a  great  number  of  years, 
was  the  most  extraordinary  of  all  comments  upon  his 
theory  of  checks  and    balances,  and   expedients  for 
making  people  do  their  duty.     One  or  two  instances 
I  shall  mention  here  on  the  authority  of  Mr.  D.    One 
day  he  had  a  new  Portuguese  plant  for  dinner,  which 
was   fried  like   an  egg,   in  parsley.     He   was  very 
fond  of  parsley.     Good,  very  good — Anne — a — a — 
more  parsley;  make-ringtion — a-^a — Anne,  tell  cook 
more  paisley  ;  do  I  make  myself  clear?  more  parsley. 
Anne  went  down,  staid  awhile — come  back,  and  said 
he  could  not  have  any  more  parsley,  because  the  frying 
pan  was  put  away.     D.  heard  this.     And  for  myself  I 
know,  that  day  after  day,  and  week  after  week,  he 
had  desired — not   ordered,  but  desired  the  potatos  to 
be  baked  instead  of  boiled ;  but  never  with  any  cor- 
respondent success.     And  one  day  this  very  Anne, 
told  him,  on  his  complaining    that  there  were  only 
four  on  the  table,  that  there  was  no  room  for  more  in 
the  boiler!    I   have  known   the    mushrooms   too,  of 
which  his  guests  were  always  very  fond,  magnificent 
specimens,  to  pass  the  window  on  their  way  to  the 
kitchen,  day  after  day,  without  appearing  at  the  table. 
To  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  minutia  of  de- 
tail in  the  state-economy  of  our  lawgiver,  these  facts 
in  his  household-economy  must  be  very  amusing.     He 
could  reform  the  world,  easier  than  he  could  regulate 
his  own  little  establishment.     There  are  no  checks  in 
the  family  ;  everything  is  trusted  to  the  servants,  even 
the  key  of  the  wine-cellar.     When  the  house-keeper 
is  out  of  money,  she  sends  up  and  gets  a  check,  and 
when  that  is  gone  she  sends  for  more  ;  he  never  looks 
at  the  account,  nor  asks  for  it — nor  gets  it. 

June  12,  1826.    Ever  hear  of  a  bargain  I  propose — 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  85 

a — a — a  bargain  for  the  future,  said  he.  Some  com- 
fort for  my  death-bed  ;  first  year  of  my  death  will  be 
the  first  year  of  my  reign  ;  if  you  have  not,  you  are 
the  only  one  of  my  intimates  that  has  not.  I  know 
very  well  how  long  I  have  a  right  to  live  at  my  age ; 
I  look  at  the  tables — four  years  now ;  the  longer  I 
live  the  harder  the  bargain  God  Almighty  will  drive 
with  me.  Now  I  say — here  God  almighty  ;  here  are 
four  years  :  Now  I'll  give  up  two  of  the  four,  if  you'll 
let  me  take  the  other  two  at  such  intervals  as  I  like — 
one  hundred,  two  hundred  years  hence;  I  should  like 
to  see  the  effect.  (35)  Had  no  answer  to  the  purpose 

yet — perhaps  there  may  be.     Wilberforce  or 

or ,  naming  several  more,  they  might 

have  one,  or  others  in  a  more  advanced  stage  of  hu- 
man discovery. 

His  health,  instead  of  growing  worse,  would  appear 
to  be  growing  decidedly  better.  He  used  to  have  the 
tooth-ache,  the  ear-ache,  the  head-ache,  and  always 
winter-coughs,  till  within  the  last  two  years — now  he 
is  entirely  free  from  all  these  troublesome  and  wear- 
ing ailments.  I  see  no  reason  why^he  should  not  live 
to  a  century. 

Nothing  amuses  us  more  than  the  confidential  com- 
munications that  are  made  to  him,  about  the  state  of 
the  world,  by  the  only  politician  he  is  ever  in  the  habit 
of  seeing.  Yesterday  he  told  me  confidentially  that 

(35)    To  the  above  a  friend  says — 

This  familiar  talk  with  the  Deity,  although  perfectly  innocent,  will  shock 
many  good  folks,  and  lessen  their  esteem  for  Bentham  and  for  his  biographer. 
And  rely  upon  it  my  friend,  it  is  unfair. — Mr.  Bentham  intended  this  conver- 
sation for  an  ear  that  he  knew  it  could  not  offend. — You  expose  it  to  all  the 
world  who  may  choose  to  hear — and  many  pure  minds  that  are  unused  to  what 
our  saints  would  term  '  blasphemy'  could  scarcely  forgive  either  Mr.  B.  or 
yourself  the  indiscretion. — It  hurts  you,  it  hurts  him,  it  gratifies  none,  but  your 
enemies  and  his. 

My  answer  to  all  which  is,  that  I  am  giving  a  portrait,  and  such  a  portrait 
as  Bentham,  being  a  lover  of  truth,  would  wish  to  be  given.  I  am  betray- 
ing nobody.  He  that  was  ready  and  willing  to  be  caricatured  by  Matthews 
on  the  stage,  will  never  object  to  such  fair  household  portraiture  as  this.  I  had 
thought  of  all  that  is  urged  above  by  my  friend,  before  I  ventured  to  give  this 
and  one  or  two  other  similar  anecdotes  ;  but  the  conclusion  I  came  to  was, 
that  I  ought  to  conceal  nothing — qualify  nothing,  which  in  my  view  was  cha- 
racteristic. All  these  things  have  their  value  as  truth. 


86  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

Mr.  Bowring  had  got  a  firman  (a  privilege)  to  weigh 
the  silver  supposed  to  be  on  board  a  certain  wreck. 
The  plan,  the  privilege  and  all,  was  a  secret.  1  left 
him,  and  the  next  day,  happening  to  cast  my  eye  over 
the  Morning  Chronicle,  I  found  it  mentioned  there 
in  such  a  way,  and  so  particularly,  as  to  show  that  it 
had  been  communicated  to  the  Morning  Chronicle  by 
Bowring  himself — probably  on  his  way  up  to  the  very 
dinner,  where  he  made  the  confidential  communica- 
tion to  Mr.  B. 

Another  day,  he  spoke  to  me  thus,  on  the  authority 
of  Mr.  Bowring.  '  Bowring  writes  that  Morrison, 
who  had  offered  for  Marlow,  after  refusing  the  wea- 
vers of  Norwich,  who  perhaps  might  have  elected  him, 
— he  alleging  that  he  was  engaged  for  Marlow, — had 
knocked  up  the  tories  and  whigs,  and  filled  them  with 
confusion  and  dismay.'  Mr.  Bentham  had  scarcely 
mentioned  the  fact,  before  the  Atlas  arrived  with  the 
polls,  proving  that  Morrison  had  no  sort  of  chance. 
When  I  mentioned  the  fact  to  him,  he  laughed  and 
said — '  A — a — Bowring  is  like  me,  too  sanguine? 

I  have  just  beer?  told  by  one  who  was  at  the  table 
when  the  circumstance  occurred,  that  Bowring  having 
mentioned  one  day  something  favourable,  which  the 
Duke  of  Sussex  (youngest  brother  of  the  king)  had 
said  at  seeing  a  card  of  Bowring's,  on  which  Mr. 
Bentham  had  written  a  few  words, — Mr.  Bentham 
pulled  the  bell,  and  when  Anne  appeared,  addressed 
the  poor  girl  thus — If  the  Duke  of  Sussex  calls,  I  am 
not  at  home  ! 

Speaking  of  a  sensitive  author,  he  said — I  cannot 
imagine  how  I  have  offended  him.  When  I  told  him, 
to  be  sure,  that  people  did  not  like  his  pamphlet,  I 
took  care  to  add  that  I  knew  nothing  about  the  mat- 
ter myself — I  had  never  read  a  line  of  his  works  in 
all  my  life ;  nothing  would  do — I  could  not  avoid  his 
wrath.  For  my  own  part,  I  could  not  help  laughing 
heartily  at  this  mode  of  averting  the  wrath  of  an  au- 
thor. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  87 

July  7th.    A  favourite  expression  of  the  lawgiver, 
when  he  hears  any  thing  new,  is,  Lord  God,  only 
think  o'  that!  accompanied  with  a  shake  of  his  white 
hair,  and  a  look  of  eager  surprise,  with  the  forehead 
thrown   back,  and  the   whole   head   thrust  forward. 
Mr.  Bowring  told  him  to-day,  that  there  was  good 
hope  of  sending  four  radicals  from  the  city.     After 
the  cloth  was  removed,  Mr.  Bentham  said,  speaking 
of  Sir  Francis  Burdett  with  whom  the  people  were 
getting  dissatisfied, — 'I  advised  them  to  get  together 
the  facts  concerning  his  behaviour  as  a  public  man, 
and  put  them  into  a  pamphlet;  and  I  offered  to  fur- 
nish them    with  Burdett's  letter  to   me.     I  should 
write  to  him  (Burdett),  and   not  take  him  by  sur- 
prise, merely  say  that  I  hoped  our  private  friendship 
would  continue ;  but  that  as  a  public  man,  either  he 
or  I  could  not  be  a  friend  to  the  people.'     I  compli- 
mented him  for  this  brave  sentiment,  and  open  way 
of  dealing  with  an  adversary.     This  led  to  some  re- 
marks about  Sir  Samuel  Romilly.      '  Just  so  with 
Romilly,'  said  he,  '  when  I  was  one  of  the  most  in- 
timate friends  he  had,  and  he  one  of  the  most  inti- 
mate  friends  I  had.     He  joined  the  whigs — and  I 
could  not  agree  with  him  there.     I  remember  the  ve- 
ry last  conversation  I  had  with  him,  a  tete  a  tete  con- 
versation; there  was  a  talk  about  the  seals  being  of- 
fered to  him,  and  I  advised  him  to  accept  them.     But 
he  said  they  never  would  be  offered;  and  that  if  they, 
were,  he  never  would  accept  them.'     They  were  a 
great  thing  to  refuse — may  he  not  have  deceived  him- 
self sir,  and  meant  exactly  what  he  said?     'I  don't 
know — very  like;  he  couldn't  say  how  he  would  feel 
at  another  time.'     Was  he  a  very  superior  man,  sir? 
'No,    not   very — the  best   o'    the    whole  of    them, 
though;    but  read  his  speeches  and  they  amount  to 
nothing;  very  good  though,  very  good,  so  far  as  they 
went.     I  gave  him  the  material  for  one  of  his  speech- 
es.    He  came  to  me  one  day  and  tried  to  stop  my 
Reform  Catechism.'     Or  Church-of-England — I  for- 


83  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

get  which,  though  I  should  think  the  latter — as  we 
were  talking  of  that  and  of  Lord  Folkstone,  a  half- 
radical,  who  could  not  swallow  a  part  of  the  church- 
work  by  Bentham,  though  he  was  a  great  admirer  of 
his  parliamentary  reform-book.  'My  dear  B,entham, 
said  Romilly — the  narrator  shook  his  head  here, 
and  grew  more  and  more  impressive  and  solemn  at 
every  word — I  wish  you  would  stop  that  work.  It 
is  too  late,  said  I;  it  is  published  now.  No,  no, 
he  replied ;  certain  forms  are  to  be  gone  through 
with  first ;  the  attorney-general  sends  a  clerk  and 
buys  a  copy;  a  measure  which  I  know  has  not  been 
taken.  If  you  do  not  stop  it,  /  am  as  certain  as 
I  am  of  my  own  existence  that  you  will  be  prosecuted; 
and  if  prosecuted,  I  am  as  certain  as  1  am  of  my  own 
existence  that  you  will  be  convicted.''  But  Mr.  Bent- 
ham  would  not  stop  it,  and  did  not  stop  it — nor  was  he 
ever  prosecuted,  though  for  a  long  while  he  lived  in 
the  hourly  expectation  of  arrest.  We  spoke  more  of 
Sir  Samuel  Romilly.  He  was  a  man  of  no  conver- 
sation ;  if  a  subject  was  ever  started,  he  cut  it  short 
with  two  or  three  words,  and  there  he  stopped. 
There  was  no  such  thing  as  conversation  at  his  house; 
Durnont  used  to  dine  there  often,  and  we  frequently 
spoke  of  it.  Dumont  said  they  used  to  sit  side  by 
side  with  each  other  for  half  an  hour,  without  speak- 
ing. 

Perhaps  the  reader  may  be  gratified  to  see  how 
Mr.  Bentham  speaks  of  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  the 
friend,  the  orator,  and  the  lawyer,  elsewhere.  In 
page  70  of  the  '  Indications  respecting  Lord  Eldon,'  a 
most  violent  and  abusive  though  able  work,  Bent- 
ham  says,  alluding  to  the  manner  in  which  his  old 
friend  Mr.  Butler  had  managed  to  make  the  buried 
Sir  Samuel  Romilly  praise  the  chancellor — that  very 
chancellor,  whose  complimentary  letter  to  Mr.  Butler, 
he,  Mr.  Butler,  kept  hung  up  and  framed  in  his  of- 
fice for  the  public  eye, — 'But  the  hand  to  which  he 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  89 

(Butler)  has  assigned  this  task  (that  of  lauding  the 
chancellor,)  is  the  hand  of  Romilly;  that  confidence- 
commanding  and  uncontradictable  hand,  which  for 
this  purpose,  resurrection-man  like,  he  has  ravished 
from  the  tomb. 

*  Having,  in  the  course  of  between  thirty  and  for- 
ty years  intimacy,  been  in  the  habit  of  hearing  senti- 
ments of  so  widely  different  a  tendency,  on  every  oc- 
casion, delivered  in  relation  to  this  same  person  (Lord 
Eldon), — silence,  on  an  occasion  such  as  the  present, 
would  have  been  so  little  distinguishable  from  assent, 
that  I  could  not  sit  easy  without  defending  myself 
against  what  might  otherwise  have  appeared  a  con- 
tradiction, given  to  me  by  my  departed  and  ever-la- 
mented friend. 

'  In  relation  to  Lord  Eldon,  I  have  no  doubt  of 
Romilly's  having  used  language,  which  at  a  distance 
of  time,  and  for  want  of  sufficient  discrimination, 
might  naturally  and  sincerely  enough,  by  a  not  unwil- 
ling hand,  have  been  improved  into  a  sort  of  pane- 
gyrick  thus  put  into  his  mouth.  But  by  the  simple 
omission  of  one  part  of  it,  the  strictest  truth  may 
have  the  effect  of  falsehood. 

'By  my  living  friend  (Butler),  my  departed  friend 
(Romilly)  was  never  seen  but  in  a  mixt  company. 
Assured  I  \vell  am,  and  by  the  declaration  of  my  de- 
parted friend,  that  between  them  there  was  no  inti- 
macy. Between  my  departed  friend  and  myself,  con- 
fidence was  mutual  and  entire. 

'  Romilly  was  among  the  earliest,  and,  for  a  time, 
the  only  efficient  one  of  my  disciples."  Here  follows 
a  note,  saying,  "  He  was  brought  to  me  by  my  earli- 
est— the  late  George  ^Wilson,  who,  after  leading  the 
Norfolk  Circuit  for  many  years,  retired  with  silk  on 
his  back  to  his  native  Scotland.7 

'  To  Romilly,  with  that  secrecy  which  prudence 
dictated,  my  works,  such  as  they  were,  were  from 
first  to  last  a  text-book;  the  sort  of  light  in  which  I 

12 


90  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

was  viewed  by  him,  was  in  Honourable-House  (Par- 
liament) in  his  own  presence,  on  an  ever  memorable 
occasion,  attested  by  our  common  friend  Mr.  Brough- 
am.' Here  follows  another  note  referring  to  Han- 
sard's Debates  in  the  House  of  Commons,  June  2nd, 
1818,  where  Mr.  Brougham  says  that  '  He  agreed 
with  his  honourable  friend  the  member  for  Arundel, 
Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  who  looked  up  to  Mr.  Benlham 
with  the  almost  filial  reverence  of  a  pupil  for  his  tu- 
tor.' 

To-day  we  are  favoured  with  Cobbett's  character 
in  little.  If  a  man  were  to  write  Cobbett  a  letter, 
says  Bentham,  declaring  that  a  strange  report  was 
abroad  about  some  distinguished  man,  charging 
him  with  having  murdered  another:  and  then  if  the 
writer  should  go  on  to  say  that  it  could  not  possibly 
be  true,  because  the  murdered  man  was  actually  then 
alive,  and  the  supposed  murderer  had  been  with  him 
(the  writer  of  the  letter)  at  the  very  time  charged — 
Cobbett  is  the  man  that  would  publish  the  first  part 
of  the  story,  word  for  word,  perhaps  giving  the  name 
of  the  writer,  without  saying  a  syllable  of  the  rest;  and 
if  he  were  ever  called  upon  to  account  for  the  omis- 
sion, he  would  deny  the  qualification  or  postscript — 
and  if  that  was  proved,  he  would  say  that  he  had  for- 
gotten it,  or  been  mistaken! 

Mr.  B.  never  had  a  quarrel  with  his  father,  nor 
ever  but  one  with  his  mother-in-law,  Mrs.  Jezebel, 
though  he  gave  her  a  look  one  day  when  she  drank 
the  roast-mutton  gravy  out  of  the  dish  before  she  sent 
away  the  meat.  The  quarrel  occurred  in  this  way. 
She  had  a  library  of  her  own.  Among  her  books 
was  Hume's  History  of  England,  which  he  borrow- 
ed, and  used  to  carry  to  the  barber's  with  him,  when 
he  went  to  have  his  hair  dressed.  After  having  read 
several  volumes,  he  begged  another.  She  sent  it, 
saying,  this  must  not  go  to  the  barber's.  He  sent  it 
back  immediately,  saying,  it  has  not  been  to  the  bar- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  91 

ber's.  A  somebody,  whose  true  name  was  Chamber- 
lain Clark,  but  who  went  by  the  name  of  Shamblin 
Clark,  used  to  say, — In  every  other  dispute  you  have 
had  with  your  step-mother,  you  have  always  been  in 
the  right — in  this,  I  think  you  were  wrong.  If  so, 
how  decidedly  clear  must  the  other  cases  have  been — 
for  a  little  hair-powder,  if  it  fell  on,  could  be  easily 
and  instantly  shaken  off. 

But  Mr.  Bentham  still  entertained  a  strong  though 
secret  allegiance  toward  the  authority  of  a  father. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  look  or  tone  with  which  he 
replied  to  me  once,  when  I  said  that  if  I  were  young 
Mill,  I  would  remonstrate  with  his  father,  touching  a 
very  delicate  business.  A — a — a — said  Mr.  Bent- 
ham;  hard  thing  to  say  to  a  father.  Young  Mill,  it 
appeared,  was  angry  with  his  father  (so  Mr.  Bent- 
ham  told  me)  for  having  so  many  children,  as  he, 
young  M.,  would  have  them  all  to  support,  if  any 
thing  should  happen.  I  would  cut  adrift,  said  I.  Ah 
— how — how — hey,  hey?  I  would  remonstrate  with 
him;  I  would  say  to  him,  you  are  making  a  prisoner 
of  me,  you  are  destroying  my  utility — I  would  leave 
him.  Here  Mr.  B.  interrupted  me — Well,  well — no 
matter  for  the  speech  now — hard  thing  to  say  to  a 
father.  But  the  look  was  the  thing — it  was  a  look 
almost  of  horror,  at  the  bare  idea  of  a  son  so  dealing 
with  his  father;  and  this  in  England,  where  one  child 
may  be  enough  to  keep  a  father  poor ;  this  between 
a  father  and  a  son,  who  were  the  head-believers  in 
utility ;  this  where  both  parties  were  always  urging 
that  population  required  checks,  and  always  contriv- 
ing checks  for  it. 

For  a  long  while  I  had  been  resolved  not  to  go 
away,  till  I  had  put  the  philosopher  in  possession  of 
a  few  facts,  touching  the  behaviour  of  his  servants, 
and  particularly  of  the  housekeeper,  toward  the  few 
friends  that  occasionally  called  at  the  'door;  and  espe- 
cially toward  Miss  F.  Wright,  who  was  a  guest  with 


92  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

him  for  a  few  weeks.     Having  prepared  to  go  to  the 
continent  in  the  course  of  a  month,  I  took  advantage 
of  something  that  occurred  one  day,  to  tell  him  how 
the  housekeeper  behaved  toward  his  two  secretaries, 
who  had  grown  up  in  the  house.     He  grew  thoughtful, 
and  appeared  to  think  that  there  was  something  else 
at  bottom;  but  I  avoided  the  enquiry,  as  he  had  over 
and  over  again  begged  me  to  speak  to  him,  if  they 
did  not  do  whatever  1  desired,  promptly  and  properly. 
For  myself,  I  had  nothing  to  complain  of;    though 
such  was  the  general  neglect  of  the  servants,  that  I 
should  have  left  him  long  before,  without  saying  a 
word,  but  for  my  unwillingness  to  have  him  suppose 
that  any  thing  on  his  part  had  altered  my  feelings  to- 
ward him  or  his  family.     If  1  went,  I  must  give  a 
reason ;  and  if  I  gave  a  reason,  it  must  be  the  true 
one.     1  had  therefore  stayed  and  stayed — now  under 
a  belief  that  we  were  to  go  to  Germany  together,  for 
I  had  promised  to  go  with  him,  at  the  desire  of  Mr. 
Bowring,  if  his  health  should  make  it  proper  to  go  to 
the  springs;  now,  with  a  view  to  finish  a  work  for 
him,  which  I   had  been  long  occupied  with — it  was 
nothing  less  than  an  abridged  view  of  all  the  cases  in 
Comyn's  Digest,  relating  to  the  subject-matter  of  his 
code.     This  I  completed  before  I  went  away,  in  lieu 
of  editing  a  hundred  pages  or  so  of  large  duodecimo, 
letter-press,  on  Evidence.     But  although  I  mentioned 
all  that  appeared  to  me  necessary,  I  found  that  un- 
less I  told  the  whole  truth,  it  would  do  little  or  no 
good.     And  why  should  I  do  this,  at  the  risk  of  bring- 
ing about  dissatisfaction  between  the  master  and  the 
servant  of  thirty  years'  standing — the  one  a  man  who 
would  not  be  likely  to  find  another  to  take  her  place  ; 
the   other  a  woman  perfectly  acquainted  with  all  his 
habits  ?     Still,  his  friends — his  real  friends,  expected 
it  of  me.     They  were  treated  with  rudeness — par- 
ticularly the  women ;  and   they  knew  that  nobody 
would  ever  be  his  guest  a  second  time.     He  ought  to 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  93 

know  it;   but  they  were  afraid  to  tell  him  of  it.     I 
was  going  away;  I  was  thought  to  have  much  influ- 
ence with  him,  and  therefore  on  me,  the  ungracious 
duty  appeared  to  be  devolved   by  common   consent. 
Soon  after  this,  a  good  opportunity  occurred.     The 
woman,  not  satisfied  with  letting  us  ring  for  break- 
fast, or  for  any  thing  else  we  wanted,  till  our  arms 
ached,  had  taught  the  other  servants  to  disregard  the 
bell.     This  I  could  not  and  would  not  bear;  so  the 
very  first  time  I  had  occasion  to  ring  a  second  time, 
I  rung  without  stopping  till  they  came.     This  brought 
up  first  a  girl,  who  played  a  trick  with  our  tea — and 
then  the  housekeeper,  who  be -rated  not  only  the  secre- 
taries but  myself,  in  the  rudest  manner.     One  would 
have  thought  her  the  mistress  of  a  low  country-tav- 
ern.    I  desired  her  to  leave  the  room.     She  refused. 
I  repeated  my  desire  in  the  shape  of  an  order;  but  in- 
stead of  obeying  me,  she  put  her  arms  a-kimbo  and 
plumped  into  a  chair.    Upon  which  I  rose  and  told  her, 
that  if  she  did  not  instantly  get  up  and  walk  out  of  the 
room  as  I  bid  her — I  would  pitch  her  down  the  cellar- 
way,  chair  and  all.     She  was  a  very  stout,  vulgar, 
strong  woman;  but  I  took  hold  of  the  chair,  and  she 
saw  it  give  way.      She  was  alarmed,  probably  on  ac- 
count of  what  she  had  seen  occur  at  our  gymnasium 
in  sight  of  her  windows,  and  jumped  up — and  I  suc- 
ceeded, by  putting  my  hand  first  on  one  shoulder  and 
then  on  the  other,  in  waltzing  her  out  of  the  room 
without  any  further  trouble.     But  my  mind  was  now 
made  up.     I  went  straightway  to  Mr.  Bentham,  and 
told  him  that  I  was  obliged  to  leave  him,  and  why ; 
that  after  I  was  gone,  she  might  be  managed  per- 
haps; at  any  rate  I  must  go.     He  begged  me  to  con- 
sider a  little  more,  and  wait  till  he  had  some  alterna- 
tive to  offer.     I  could  not  refuse;  and  the  result  satis- 
fied me,  that  if  he  lacked  energy  in  trifles,  he  did  not, 
in  serious  matters;  for  to  him  at  his  age,  and  with 
his  habits  of  life,  what  could  be  much  more  serious 


94  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

than  the  departure  of  an  old,  and  I  dare  say  faithful 
housekeeper  ?  But  he  was  firm;  having  enquired  into 
the  facts  from  the  two  secretaries,  who  were  present 
from  the  first  to  the  last,  and  who  were  able  to  say 
much  more  than  I  could,  about  other  misbehaviour  to- 
ward myself,  he  gave  her  and  the  others  immediately 
concerned,  the  choice  of  making  a  satisfactory  apolo- 
gy to  me,  or  of  leaving  his  service  that  very  day  at 
four  o'clock.  The  girl  submitted,  and  was  retained; 
the  housekeeper  said  no — and  was  sent  off,  though 
she  had  told  him  to  his  face,  that  if  she  was  sent  away, 
all  the  others  were  determined  to  follow.  But  none 
did  follow;  and  the  immediate  consequence  was  such 
a  thorough  and  satisfactory  household-reform,  that  he 
used  to  thank  me  for  the  stand  I  took  with  a  hearti- 
ness, which  one  who  did  not  know  the  value  of  an 
old  servant  to  such  a  master,  would  have  thought  cer- 
tainly disproportioned  to  the  magnitude  of  the  affair. 
It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  add,  that  a  sister  suc- 
ceeded her ;  and  that  after  lying  up  in  ordinary  a 
couple  of  years  or  so,  the  old  housekeeper  herself 
has  been  re-instated,  and  that  the  reform  appears  to 
continue. 

From  this  time  (August  2d),  the  philosopher  in- 
stead of  rising  at  10,  11  and  12,  got  up  at  seven;  had 
not  taken  coffee  in  bed  for  two  years,  he  told  me. 

Aug.  24th.  To-day  he  writes  a  letter  to  Dr.  Ma- 
culloch,  which  begins  with  '  May  it  please  your  Om- 
niscience'— adding  as  he  mentioned  it  to  me,  that 
benevolence  was  a  rhyme  for  it !  I  laughed  at  the 
idea  of  his  knowing,  or  pretending  to  know,  what  a 
rhyme  was,  though  like  my  friend  Rembrandt  Peale, 
he  had  procured  a  copy  of  Walker's  Rhyming  Dic- 
tionary, not  (like  Mr.  P.)  to  make  poetry  with,  but 
to  assist  him  in  some  other  part  of  his  work.  He 
fumbled  about  the  letter,  folded  it  wrong,  and  mut- 
tered ass !  I  looked  up,  and  he  added,  1  don't  mean 
you;  and  went  on  fumbling  with  a  wafer,  which  as 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  95 

all  his  fingers  are  thumbs,  and  every  thumb  a  bit  of 
India-rubber  that  doubles  to  the  pressure,  he  could 
make  nothing  of.  I  saw  that  he  was  about  to  enclose 
it  under  cover  to  the  duke  of  Athol,  and  being  afraid 
he  might  so  far  outrage  the  established  etiquette 
of  the  empire  as  to  seal  that  also  with  a  wafer,  I 
asked  him.  He  said  no.  I  then  observed,  modestly 
enough,  that  I  had  sealing-wax.  '  Marry,  come  up,7 
said  he,  *  I've  got  sealing-wax  as  well  as  you.' 
These  are  things  that  made  his  pleasantry  so  delight- 
ful, so  innocent,  so  child-like.  '  Come,  come,'  he 
continued,  '  I'll  show  sealing-wax  with  you,  and  he 
that  has  got  most,  shall  take  all.'  Agreed,  if  you'll 
give  me  till  to-morrow  at  eleven  o'clock,  when  I  have 
to  get  a  new  supply.  '  No,  I  shan't  give  you  any 
thing.  No! — not  even  a  little  time.' 

He  prints  well;  and  keeps  a  pen  for  that  particular 
purpose;  and  another  for  directing  letters — to  save 
time. 

This  very  day  (Aug.  24),  after  going  out  to  receive  a 
small  annuity,  he  trotted  all  the  way  from  Fleet-street 
to  Queen-Square  Place,  Westminster,  a  part  of  the 
way  very  fast — not  at  all  tired,  though  warm.  Perhaps 
he  did  so  to  re-assure  himself — on  the  way  back  from 
a  life-annuity  office,  of  which  he  was  the  only  surviv- 
ing annuitant  of  a  particular  age. 

Sept.  3,  1826.  Mr.  Bentham  breakfasts  to-day  at 
4i  P.  M.!  Mr.  Doane  says,  that  he  knew  him  once 
to  sit  down  to  breakfast  after  the  clock  struck  five. 
The  Philosopher,  as  any  body  may  see  by  his  writing, 
is  a  great  lover  of  order.  There  is  nothing  indeed 
so  remarkable  for  close  and  severe  arrangement,  even 
among  the  severe  sciences,  as  a  part  of  his  works  in 
French,  and  a  part  of  his  Constitutional  Code.  Yet, 
there  is  not  a  man  on  earth  so  practically  regardless 
of  order — so  many  places  for  every  thing  has  he,  that 
he  never  knows  where  to  find  any  thing.  Whole 
days  are  spent  in  searching  for  what  he  has  had,  not 


96  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

an  hour  previous  in  his  hand.  He  is  continually  miss- 
ing some  paper,  which  he  knows  not  where  to  look 
for.  P.  S. — I  have  known  him  breakfast  repeatedly 
since,  between  half-past  two  and  half-past  three. 

One  of  the  cleverest  women  I  know,  a  sort  of  pet 
grand-baby  of  the  philosopher,  though  they  are  not  re- 
lated at  all ;  one  who  has  been  familiar  with  him  for 
years,  writes  me  to-day  (Oct.  5)  as  follows.  "  God 
bless  you  for  exalting  me  in  my  beloved  grandpa's 
good  graces.  You  can't  think  how  dearly  I  do  love 
him,  Legislation  and  all  that  apart ;  and  yet  if  there 
ever  was  a  woman  peculiarly  prone  to  love  and 
admire  a  man  for  his  public  affections  and  pub- 
lic usefulness,  I  do  say  I  am  that  she;  and  that  I 
could  not  love  a  paragon  of  beauty,  wit,  and  private 
kindness,  if  he  looked  on  the  good  or  ill-being  of 
mankind  with  indifference,  with  scorn,  or  with  anti- 
social feelings.  Think  of  the  divine  old  man  grow- 
ing a  sort  of  vetch  in  his  garden,  to  cram  his  pockets 
with  for  the  deer  in  Kensington-Garden.  I  remem- 
ber his  pointing  it  out  to  me,  and  telling  me  the  'vir- 
tuous deer7  were  fond  of  it,  and  ate  it  out  of  his  hand. 
I  could  have  kissed  his  feet — it  was  the  feeling  of  a 
kind,  tender-hearted,  loving  child." 

This  anecdote  of  the  "divine  old  man"  was  so  like 
much  that  1  knew  to  be  true,  much  that  I  myself  had 
observed  in  his  treatment  of  animals,  that  I  took  the 
first  opportunity  to  ask  him  if  it  was  true.  He  did 
not  know — was  inclined  to  believe  it  a  mistake,  for  he 
never  grew  any  thing  for  the  virtuous  deer ;  but  he 
used  to  carry  bread  and  salt  in  his  pocket  for  them 
whenever  he  went  that  way,  and  buns  for  the  swans. 

Having  bought  a  pig  in  a  family-way,  the  gar- 
dener by  his  direction  has  just  built  her  a  neat  house, 
and  takes  the  greatest  possible  care  of  her  (and,  by 
the  by,  the  gardener  himself  is  a  treasure — he  has 
been  with  Mr.  B.  nearly  forty  years,  if  I  do  not  much 
mistake).  Mr.  B.  visits  her  regularly  every  day,  and 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  97 

asks  every  body  he  meets  to  go  and  see  her.  She  is 
taken  out  every  day,  and  walked  slowly  round  the 
garden  for  air;  he  has  got  attached  to  her,  calls  her 
an  affectionate  creature,  determines  that  she  shall  not 
be  killed,  and  promises  with  suitable  gravity  to  pro- 
vide for  her  in  his  will.  Elrick  the  gardener  is  to 
have  so  much  a  year  as  long  as  she  lives — That,  says 
he,  provides  against  accidental  death  you  know,  the  ca- 
sualties that  pork-flesh  is  heir  to  in  seasons  of  scarcity. 
He  always  keeps  a  cat.  The  last,  which  on  account 
of  his  gravity  and  blackness  of  coat  he  used  to  call 
the  Reverend  Doctor  Lankhim  (or  some  such  name), 
and  which  he  would  never  allow  any  body  to  call  a 
cat,  having  died  of  old  age,  he  walked  three  miles  to 
see  another  pussy  he  had  been  told  of  by  secretary 
D.  He  used  to  feed  the  Rev.  Dr.  L.  with  soup  at  the 
table,  and  after  his  death,  tried  for  a  long  while  to 
find  a  monkey  to  supply  his  place.  A  monkey  among 
his  papers!  thought  I — it  would  be  a  daily  edition  of 
the  story  about  Newton  and  his  dog.  Having  heard 
of  the  jewelled  mice,  now  exhibiting  at  the  mechani- 
cal exhibition  in  the  Haymarket,  he  has  set  his  heart 
upon  going  thither — although  he  does  not  go  beyond 
the  park  railing  of  his  garden  6nce  a  year.  The  mous- 
ies,  as  he  calls  them,  with  all  the  earnestness  and 
tenderness  of  a  child,  were  stuck  all  over  with  bril- 
liant gems,  and  ran  about  in  a  box,  with  a  motion  of 
the  tail  and  a  brisk  whirl  of  the  body  every  moment 
or  two,  so  like  life,  that  it  was  easier  to  suppose  them 
alive  and  stuck  over  with  jewels,  than  a  bit  of  cun- 
ningly-contrived clock-work  as  they  are.  In  the 
drawer  of  his  table,  he  keeps  a  quantity  of  stale 
bread  for  his  own  use — and  that  of  the  mousies. 
When  he  was  in  Russia  he  had  a  pet-bear;  but  the 
wolves  got  to  him  one  cold  night  in  the  depth  of  win- 
ter, and  stole  a  large  part  of  his  face.  Mr.  Bentham 
was  inconsolable. 

13 


98  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

Oct.  6.  He  told  me  to-day  that  Mr.  Bowring  told 
him  that  Mr.  Henry  told  him,  that  Wilmot  Horton 
told  him,  that  Mr.  Secretary  Peel  told  him,  that  Mr. 
Bentham  was  the  only  man  in  the  country  who  knew 
any  thing  about  codification.  Very  likely !  Henry 
was  a  man  employed  to  collect  evidence  at  the  trial 
of  the  Queen,:  He  satisfied  all  parties  ;  and  was  then 
sent  to  Demerara  and  elsewhere  on  a  like  job  for 
government,  and  is  now  on  a  commission  for  some 
judicial  enquiry.  Wilmot  Horton  is  the  real  man, 
where  Lord  Bathurst  is  the  nominal  one,  of  the  of- 
fice held  by  the  latter.  Mr.  Bentham  is  delighted, 
and  well  he  may  be,  with  what  he  calls  the  signs  of 
the  times — alluding  to  the  efforts  of  Peel,  Mr.  Hum- 
phreys's  book  on  real  property,  and  the  review  thereof 
in  the  Quarterly,  a  government  journal. 

He  proposes  to  exhaust  the  subject  of  punning, 
which  he  looks  upon  as  a  matter  of  downright 
drudgery.  But  how  ?  By  taking  up  the  dictiona- 
ry, and  punning  through  page  after  page  to  order. 
The  best  of  it  is,  that  he  who  never  sees  a  verbal 
joke,  nor  a  play  upon  words,  is  perfectly  serious  here. 

In  his  universal  grammar,  there  is  a  chapter  On 
style!  This  we  find  a  most  productive  source  of 
laughter.  The  very  idea  is  enough — Bentham  on 
Style! 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  99 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Panopticon — Magnificent  Project — Poetry — Fun — Bowring Management — 

Hume — Goes  to  a  Pantomime — A^ed  Greek — Mr.  Gallatiri — Style  of  Du- 
mont — Dr.  Johnson — Boswell — Voltaire — Autumn — Parallel  between  Bent- 
ham  and  Hobbes — Biography,  what  ? — Sully 's  portrait. 

Nov.  13,  1826.  To-day  he  entered  into  a  detail  of 
his  magnificent  project  with  regard  to  the  Panopti- 
con-proprietorship, or  contract-management  propos- 
ed by  him,  and  accepted  by  the  government.  I.  He 
intended  (out  of  the  profits  of  the  concern)  to  build 
a  street  from  his  house  in  Queen-Square  Place,  to 
the  Abbey  (Westminster-Abbey) — with  arcades  and 
flower-pots,  like  a  garden  all  the  way  on  both  sides 
— the  flowers  when  they  faded  to  be  taken  away  and 
their  places  to  be  supplied  from  the  garden  at  Bat- 
tersea — which  was  to  be.  II.  There  was  to  be  an 
establishment  with  a  Greek  name  to  it — of  eight  or 
ten  acres,  and  a  passage  under  ground  from  the  Panop- 
ticon, for  the  secret  delivery  of  women,  whether  rich 
or  poor,  the  poor  to  wait  on  the  rich,  and  the  rich  to 
pay  for  both.  III.  There  was  to  be  a  slide  by  a  rail- 
way for  children  and  others  from  Battersea-reach  to 
Westminster-Abbey,  the  height  being  proved  equal 
to  that  of  the  tower — with  another  Greek  name  for 
this.  Now  what  will  the  reader  say,  when  I  add  that 
all  this  and  more  might  have  been  accomplished  with 
a  part  of  the  probable  profits  which  he  would  have 
derived  from  his  scheme,  had  the  British  government 
held  faith  with  him — to  say  nothing  of  the  improve- 
ment everywhere  in  the  structure  of  prisons,  the  treat- 
ment of  prisoners,  the  condition  of  society,  and  the 
melioration  of  law,  which  must  have  followed.  Yet 


100  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

such  is  the  fact — in  this  country  we  are  already 
beginning  to  draw  large  resources  from  our  states 
prisons  and  penitentiaries ;  yet  they  are  not  well-ma- 
naged, nor  well-built  for  the  purpose,  and  the  charges 
are  ten-fold  more  than  they  ought  to  be,  and  would 
be  on  his  plan,  which  so  far  as  it  has  been  adopted, 
has  always  been  found  to  succeed.  We  in  this  coun- 
try are  but  beginning  to  do  in  a  small  way  what  he 
undertook  to  do  in  a  large  way  forty  years  ago;  that 
is,  to  convert  our  penitentiaries  into  productive  manu- 
factories. Had  he  done  this  in  England,  with  the 
number  and  ingenuity  of  their  artisan-culprits,  his 
wealth  might  soon  have  realised  more  than  was  hop- 
ed for  i  by  the  celebrated  Thelusson,  whose  will  has 
so  long  agitated  the  courts  of  his  country  ;  nor  would 
it  be  wise  in  our  people  to  jeer  at  the  philosopher  for 
indulging  in  such  a  dream,  so  long  as  that  other  dream 
of  the  provident,  wise,  and  cautious  Franklin,  with  his 
compound  interest,  remains  to  be  accomplished.  (36) 

Nov.  10th.  To-day  in  a  letter  he  showed  me  to  the 
President  of  Guatemala,  he  acknowledged  that  the 
Westminster  Review  has  already  cost  him  over  and 
above  the  receipts,  nearer  four  than  three  thousand 
pounds,  that  is,  from  about  15  to  20,000  dollars — a 
goodly  part  thereof  has  gone  to  his  friend  Bowring 
for  editorship. 

Nov.  15.  Nothing  was  ever  so  delightful  as  the 
child-like  pleasantry  of  this  old  man;  walking  to  and 
fro  in  the  ditch  after  dinner,  singing,  laughing,  and 
repeating  baby-stories  and  baby-verses.  I  must  give 
another  specimen  of  his  real  manner  and  real  lan- 
guage. To-day  he  repeats  a  number  of  English- 
Greek  verses — verses  in  English  that  is,  which  pro- 
nounced in  a  certain  way,  sound  like  the  verses  re- 
peated by  Sheridan  on  the  floor  of  the  British  Par- 

(36)  Franklin  left  funds  to  be  forever  managed  by  trustees — the  annual  in- 
crease of  which,  after  a  certain  period  was  to  be  appropriated  to  the  laying  out 
and  establishing  of  roads,  canals,  and  empires. 


PRINCIPLES    OF   LEGISLATION.  1Q1 

liament,  as  the  residue  of  a  Greek  passage  already 
quoted  by  another  ;  and  for  which,  and  the  amazing 
aptitude  of  his  memory,  he  was  immediately  compli- 
mented by  his  antagonist,  who  admitted  the  whole 
made  against  him, — and  by  Fox,  who  valued  himself 
and  was  valued  by  his  friends  for  his  Greek  scholar- 
ship. One  phrase  I  recollect.  It  was  leg  o'  mutton, 
which  being  pronounced  legorrSothon,  made  very  beau- 
tiful Greek  to  the  ear.  Perhaps  the  reader  may  re- 
collect the  Italian  of  his  youth — 

In  pine  tar  is, 
In  oak  none  is 
In  mud  eel  is 
In  clay  none  is — 

Which  barring  the  fact,  that  in  Italian  almost  every 
word  terminates  in  a  vowel,  has  quite  an  Italian  air. 

This  over,  he  repeated  to  me  a  string  of  verses, 
which  were  once  regarded  as  very  severe — beginning 
with — 

Great  Lord  Frog 
To  Lady  Mouse 
At  James's  House 
Cock-o-my  cary-she  ! 

Or  something  near  that,  in  such  a  way  as  to  keep 
me  laughing  till  my  sides  ached.  You  would  have 
thought  him  the  author — with  such  a  lugubrious  so- 
lemnity were  they  trolled  forth  :  and  then  to  con- 
vince me  that  he  could  make  poetry,  and  only  for- 
bore out  of  mercy  to  Bowring  and  me,  he  gave  me 
four  lines,  made  the  day  before,  on  the  return  of  Mr. 

C ,  the  junior  secretary,  who  had  been  ill  for  two 

or  three  weeks  at  the  very  time  when  he  had  a  great 
press  of  matter  to  prepare  for  Guatemala.  I  had 
caught  Mr.  B.  in  the  fact  once  before,  to  the  extent  of 
a  couplet  or  so.  Thus,  A  pretty  chap  to  use  my 
strap!  said  he  of  Richard,  the  senior  secretary,  in  a 
moment  of  inspiration ;  but  here  was  a  much  more 
serious  achievement. 


102  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

Behold  our  Jack    (37) 
In  health  come  back 

The  Lord  be  praised  therefore. 
You  that  arc  mete 
The  song  complete 

For  I  can  go  uo  more. 

There,  said  he,  I  have  spent  a  con'-siderable  time  on 
that  (giving  the  word  considerable,  the  pure  yankee 
sound).  Observe  the  words  now — Behold  our  Jack. 
— in  health  come  back,  how  rich  in  sentiment.  This 
was  irresistible,  and  more  so  when  he  begged  me  to 
observe  how  he  had  kept  his  eye  on  Sternhold  and 
Hopkins  ;  and  the  best  of  the  joke  was  that  I  hardly 
knew  when  he  had  finished,  whether  he  was  in  fan  or 
earnest. 

At  tea,  I  entered  the  room,  repeating  the  verses 
about  great  Lord  Frog  ;  but  repeating  them  falsely. 
Lord  God,  only  think  o'  that !  said  he,  counterfeiting 
a  terrible  wrath  ;  you  have  left  out  the  very  pith  and 
marrow  of  the  song — 

Great  Lord  Frog 
To  Lady  Mouse, 

Cockledum  ho  !  cockledum  he  ! 
Living  at  St.  James's  house    (38) 

Cock  o'  my-cary-she  ! 

After  this,  we  had  a  short  conversation  about  God- 
win, the  prototype  of  Mr.  Brown,  the  novelist.  Mr. 
B.  had  liked  his  St.  Leon,  got  very  much  interested 
in  it ;  but  never  saw  so  bad  a  style  as  that  of  Caleb 
Williams  (39).  Godwin  would  write  begging  let- 
ters to  every  body  he  knew — and  this,  while  he  would 
have  his  bottle  of  wine  or  his  pint  of  wine  every  day. 

(37)  The  secretary  in  question  was  named  John  Flovverden  C. 

(38)  The  palace. 

(39)  It  is  laughable — there  is  no  denying  it — to  hear  Jeremy  Bentham  be- 
rating the  style  of  Godwin  ;   but  perhaps  the   reader  may  be  quite  as   much 
surprised  to   hear  Godwin  attack  the  style  of  another — John   Philpot  Curran. 
Sir  Jonah  Barrington  relates  a  story  of  Godwin  being  dreadfully  pressed   by 
Curran  to  say  what  he  thought  of  a  speech  made  by  the  latter.     Since  you  will 
know,  said  Godwin,  folding  his  arms  and  leaning  b;ick  in  his  chair,  I  really 
never  did  hear  anything  so  bad  as  your  prose — except  your  poetry,  my  dear 
Curran. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  103 

As  I  s;ot  up  to  leave  the  table,  he  said  something 
about  Mary  YVolstonecraft,  who  took  it  into  her  head 
to  die  one  day.  Ah  so  she  did. — I  remember  the 
fact,  said  I  ;  several  other  persons  died  about  that 
time.  Very  true,  as  you  say ;  very  true — in  the  voice 
he  kept  to  tell  a  story  with,  about  a  pompous  divine 
who  used  to  speak  of  'most-admirable-barrel-cod,'  as 
if  he  were  reading  a  part  of  the  church-service. 

On  going  away,  he  charged  me  to  have  a  better 
memory  another  time,  upon  which  I  tried  once  more 
to  repeat  the  verses  about  the  frog;  but  the  moment  I 
came  to  the  pith  and  marrow  as  he  called  it,  the  bur- 
then of  cockledum-he  cockledum-hb,  he  affected  to 
lose  all  patience.  Good  God!  it's  enough  to  drive 
one  mad.  Cockledum  ho  cockledum  he, — will  you 
never  say  it  right !  I  moved  away,  with  as  much  gravi- 
ty as  I  could  wear,  and  he  seeming  to  be  soothed,  kept 
growling  after  me, — Flesh  and  blood  can't  bear  it ! 
And  all  this,  I  need  not  assure  the  reader,  was  no- 
thing but  play,  the  play  of  a  patriarch,  whose  eyes 
would  not  allow  him  to  read,  and  whose  mind  requir- 
ed a  simple  and  cheap  relaxation.  To  others  it  may 
appear  silly — to  me  it  was  remarkably  pleasant,  for 
the  old  man's  heart  was  before  me,  like  the  heart  of  a 
young  child. 

Nov.  19.  .To-day  in  a  frolic  he  gives  me  a  letter  to 
the  celebrated  Dr.  Armstrong,  which,  omitting  a  pas- 
sage, runs  thus — '  The  bearer  is  a  man  of  *****  in 
law  and  literature  in  the  United  States.  1  have  had 
the  advantage  of  his  company  as  an  inmate  for  about 
a  twelvemonth  past;  and  he  has  never  to  my  know- 
ledge told  lies  or  picked  my  pocket.  He  has  some- 
thing to  say  to  you.  Yours,  ever, 

JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

Dr.  Armstrong. 

P.  S. — I  am  using  you  very  ill,  by  being  so  well  as 
I  am.  But  you  are  generous  and  will  forgive  me.  We 
are  cutting  the  ground  from  under  you  by  gymnastics.' 


104  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

To-day  he  receives  a  Chinese  dictionary  from  Par- 
is— to  be  opened  for  five  minutes,  and  then  laid  aside 
forever. 

Dec.  22.  To-day,  he  threw  out  his  character  to 
great  advantage.  Mr.  Bowring,  the  philanthropist, 
was  here  and  had  a  point  to  gain,  requiring  all  his 
management.  A  Scotchman,  editor  of  the  Free-Press 
in  Scotland,  wanted  to  establish  a  free-press  at  Lon- 
don. I  was  curious  to  see  how  the  affair  would  be 
managed  on  the  part  of  the  philanthropist;  and  the 
following  is  a  record  of  the  proceedings  at  table. 
Mr.  Bowring  began  by  cautiously  lauding  the  editor, 
as  they  term  it  here  ;  saying  that  Hume  and  others 
were  greatly  interested  in  the  project,  and  that  he 
(the  editor)  improved  exceedingly  on  acquaintance  ; 
for  himself  he  had  no  idea  when  he  saw  the  man  first 
that  he  had  so  much  good  in  him ;  that  he  had  written 
a  defence  of  Hume  in  the  Morning  Chronicle,  signed 
Hampden ;  that  his  motto  (here  was  the  clencher) 
was  The  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number. 

Ah,  said  Bentham,  and  so  says  Buckingham  (of 
the  Oriental  Herald),  all  that  and  more — The  great- 
est happiness  of  the  greatest  number  and  thatybr  the 
greatest  length  of  time.  This  he  uttered  with  a  plea- 
sant though  rather  a  satirical  laugh. 

Here  the  poet  grew  more  zealous  and  brave.  Only 
£2000  were  wanted:  nearlv  £1000  were  already  sub- 

*/  »/ 

scribed.  Place,  the  tailor,  had  sent  the  proposal  to 
Beritham,  without  one  word  of  remark. 

Bowring  persevered. 

Bentham  then  said,  Ah,  but  I  am  afraid  that'll 
be  a  great  injury  to  the  Examiner, — alluding  to 
Hunt's  free  paper  of  that  title,  which  Bowring  was 
pledged  to  stand  by. 

Bowring,  wholly  unprepared  for  this,  turned  away 
and  affected  to  be  busy  wiping  his  spectacles  with  a 
handkerchief,  though  trying  to  recover  from  what  was 
in  fact  an  astounding  blow.  No  injury  to  the  Exami- 
ner, said  he  at  last  in  a  hurried  way. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  105 

How  so  ?  asked  Bentham  quite  seriously. 
Not  the  same  class  of  readers,  said  Mr.  Secreta- 
ry D.  on  Bowring's  right,  much  to  the  relief  of  that 
gentleman,  who  took  advantage  of  the  hint  forthwith, 
and  went  on  to  prove  it  with  a — Certainly,  precisely 
— not  the  same  class  of  readers.  • 

Ah,  oh — but  how  can  you  tell  that,  when  the  paper 
is  not  published  yet. 

Here  was  another  knock-down,  with  the  simple, 
straight-forward  strength  of  a  wise  and  powerful  na- 
ture, anxious  for  the  truth,  and  having  no  end  to  an- 
swer but  that  of  truth. 

After  hesitating  awhile  and  considering  over  the 
soup,  the  poet  added, — but  he  knows  by  the  connex- 
ion he  has  already. 

Ay — ay — but  who  can  tell  how  it  may  be  here- 
after ? 

So  I  said,  quoth  Bowring,  and  that  was  a  rea- 
son (significantly)  for  not  exerting  myself  with  more 
zeal. 

Here  I  could  not  help  interchanging  a  glance  with 
the  right  hand  secretary,  who  understood  me  I  dare 
say,  for  he  bit  his  lip.  That  cock  wouldn't  fight;  and 
Bowring  was  now  determined  to  win  the  day,  by  go- 
ing over. 

A  daily  paper  I  should  think  would  not  interfere, 
continued  Mr.  Bentham. 

My  opinion  is  for  a  daily  paper,  answered  Bow- 
ring. 

But  we  mustn't  injure  the  Examiner. 
But  the  Examiner  hardly  supports  itself  now. 
There,  there,  that's  the  very  reason;  if  this  paper 
is  set  up,  it.  will  finish  it  entirely. 

I  could  not  help  feeling  delighted  at  the  effect  of 
Mr.  Bentham's  credulity  and  simplicity  here;  believ- 
ing every  word  he  was  told,  yet  turning  it  all  upon 
the  besieger  piece  by  piece,  like  the  guns  and  mor- 

14 


106  .  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

tars  of  a  battering  train,  as  fast  as  they  were  brought 
up. 

Mr.  Bentham  has  no  objection  whatever  to  be 
known  to  the  world  precisely  as  he  is.  I  frequently 
amuse  him  for  a  moment  or  two  by  imitating  some  of 
his  peculiarities  of  speech,  walk  and  gesture  ;  and  he 
has  actually  invited  Matthews  to  dine  with  him,  be- 
cause I  have  thought  a  true  Bentham  on  the  stage  by 
Matthews,  would  be  well  received  by  the  public.  He 
regards  it  as  a  sitting  for  a  picture — a  live-picture  of 
himself,  and  is  tickled  at  the  idea;  and  I  am  sure 
would  be  one  of  the  first  to  go  and  see  it,  and  laugh 
at  it  with  the  multitude. 

Dec.  29, 1  {526.  To-day  we  have  Mr.  Hume  the  Scotch 
financier,  who  is  so  remarkable  for  his  penny-wise  and 
pound-foolish  economy,  that  between  parliaments  he 
will  not  take  out  a  letter  from  the  office,  unless  the 
postage  is  paid.  Money,  remitted  by  his  tenants  or 
steward,  has  frequently  lain  a  long  while  for  him,  and 
in  some  cases  travelled  through  the  general  post-of- 
fice before  he  received  it.  Speaking  of  the  king  of 
Bavaria,  Mr.  Bentham  said  he  wanted  to  send  him 
something.  Mr.  Hume  offered  to  give  it  to  the 
Dutch  ambassador ;  adding  that  he  had  sent  a  letter 
lately  through  the  home  post-office  to  His  majesty  the 
king,  to  make  sure  he  would  get  it — and  received  an 
answer  through  Mr.  Peele.  Did  you  pay  the  post- 
age ?  said  Bentham.  Pay  the  postage !  with  a  laugh, 
— king's  own  post. 

Jan.  9, 1H27.  Mr.  Bentham  has  concluded  to  publish 
the  review  of  Humphreys  in  the  Westminster  Review. 
I  am  sorry  for  it  ;  and  if  Bowring  would  say  to  him 
what  he  says  to  me,  it  would  not  be  done.  At  last  it 
appears,  but  in  such  a  way  as  to  stir  the  Philosopher's 
bile — it  comes  out  in  the  proof  headed  Supplement. 
He  speaks  to  Bowring,  who  denies  all  agency  in  the 
matter,  calls  it  a  mistake  of  the  printer,  (And  a  mis- 
take of  the  printer  it  probably  was  in  sending  a  proof 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  107 

with  that  word  in  it),  and  will  order  it  to  be  struck 
out.  Mr.  Bentham  sends  a  secretary  to  see  the  print- 
er, still  without  any  suspicion  of  the  trick,  and  the  print- 
er tells  him  that  the  obnoxious  word  is  left  out  in  Mr. 
Bentham's  copy  and  a  few  more — though  not  in  the 
work.  Very  droll,  says  Bentham  when  he  hears  it ; 
very  odd,  and  laughs.  No  sort  of  suspicion  yet. 
Suppose  it  was  forgot,  he  adds  after  a  while.  No, 
says  the  secretary,  that  cannot  be,  for  the  press  is 
stopped. 
*  #  *  *  •*  *  # 

Mr.  Bentham  dreams  that  he  is  in  a  pit ;  and  at 
last,  he  takes  it  into  his  head,  though  asleep,  that  he 
is  dreaming,  and  says  to  himself  this  will  never  do,  I 
must  wake  myself  up.  He  begins  to  bawl,  and  final- 
ly does  wake  himself. 

****** 

On  Friday  Mr.  Bowring  assured  him  that  the  West- 
minster Review  would  be  out  certainly  on  Monday 
next.  This  morning  (Saturday)  the  Morning  Chro- 
nicle, on  his  authority,  says  Thursday  next.  Bow- 
ring  must  have  left  the  advertisement  as  he  passed 
up  to  dine  with  the  proprietor,  to  whom  he  said  it 
would  appear  on  Monday.  At  any  rate,  he  had 
finished  the  notice  before,  else  it  could  not  have  ap- 
peared this  morning. 

Jan.  30.  When  Mr.  B.  was  young  he  had  a  pro- 
pensity for  hysteric  laughter.  Being  in  church  one 
day  he  heard  the  clergyman  address  the  Deity  thus, 
Thou  oh  God,  who  alterest  all  events  at  thy  pleasure, 
he  burst  out  a  laughing  and  was  obliged  to  withdraw. 
Some  years  after,  it  occurred  to  him,  that  probably 
the  preacher  had  said,  O  Thou  who  orderest  instead 
of  alterest  all  events. 

Mr.  George  Bentham,  his  nephew,  has  great  diffi- 
culty in  preventing  the  benevolent  old  man  from 
sending  the  letter  of  a  grand-niece  Adele,  a  child  of 
six  years  old,  to  Mr.  Peele  :  it  contains  about  eight 


108  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

lines — very  clever  for  a  child  ;    but  only  think  of  its 
being  sent  to  a  minister  of  the  British  empire. 

Mr.  B.  has  a  wonderful  sensitiveness,  not  only 
about  the  equal  distribution  of  roast-mutton  gravy  ; 
but  about  eating  pies  in  a  certain  way,  with  equal 
and  fair  proportions  of  crust  and  soft.  There,  there 
now,  he  would  cry  out;  you  are  bound  to  cut  it  so. 
Yet  he  never  has  a  pie  to  himself;  but  takes  out  a 
little  bit  of  this,  and  a  little  bit  of  that,  so  that  when 
he  dined  at  his  brother's,  every  pie  came  up  with  a 
little  piece  cut  out. 

He  is  tickled  to  death  at  a  pantomime,  though  he 
contends  that  the  classical  purity  of  pantomime  is 
dreadfully  outraged  now ;  the  '  lean  and  slippered 
pantaloon'  being  the  cleverest  fellow  there,  except  the 
clown,  who  is  sure  to  beat  Harlequin  all  hollow.  It 
was'nt  so  in  his  youth. 

To-day,  Feb.  8 — we  have  persuaded  him  to  see 
Kean  in  Sir  Giles  Overreach.  Mr.  B.'s  criticisms 
were  delightful — Kean  appeared  to  him  to  be  very 
ill-made — no  calves — and  the  language  of  the  play 
what  nobody  ever  talked.  When  the  great  actor 
came  to  the  passage,  where,  having  occasion  to  say 
that  he  is  '  moved  as  the  moon  is,  when  wolves  do 
whine  and  howl  at  her,'  he  actually  how-ow-owls, 
and  whi-i-ines  out  the  words,  I  looked  at  Bentham, 
who  appeared  to  enjoy  it  as  capital  fun.  But  the 
hour  of  real  enjoyment  had  not  arrived.  There  was 
a  pantomime  to  be  played — the  Man  in  the  Moon  ; 
with  this  he  was  pleased — delighted — save  as  I  have 
mentioned  before,  where  it  violated  the  truth  of  his- 
tory— Pantaloon  being  a  worthy  and  staid  old  man, 
the  clown  a  clown.  Here  the  old  man  and  the  clowns 
are  most  active — Tissue  of  misrepresentations — 
can't  abide  it,  said  he,  as  we  prepared  to  come  away ; 
Pantaloon — a  worthy  old  gentleman, — yet  he  is  as  ac- 
tive as  the  best  of  them  ;  no  plot  neither  ;  would 
give  five  times  as  much  (quite  seriously)  to  see  it 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  109 

done  with  truth.  On  this  occasion  his  two  nieces 
were  with  him — the  daughters  of  Gen.  Sir  Samuel 
Bentham  ;  they  had  not  been  together,  till  within 
a  week  or  two,  for  many  years  ;  nor  had  he  and  his 
brother  had  any  intercourse  for  many  a  year.  The 
meeting  was  delightful  to  every  body  that  knew  the 
circumstances — their  hearts  were  all  running  over  to- 
gether. 

Nov.  13.  He  saw  Mrs.  Siddons's  first  appearance  : 
it  was  in  Portia,  29th  Dec.  177i> — she  made  her  se- 
cond appearance  at  London,  on  the  10th  of  Oct.  1782, 
in  Isabella. 

Feb.  1 3th.  To-day  a  filthy  middle-aged  Greek,  very 
learned  and  clothed  Ifke  a  beggar,  who  had  been  here 
twice  before,  with  a  Greek  letter  to  Mr.  Bentham, 
which  could  not  be  received,  as  the  writer  spoke  no- 
thing but  a  barbarous  lingua-franca,  German,  Italian 
and  modern  Greek  all  jumbled  together,  now  comes 
to  me  w^ith  a  letter  in  Greek,  translated  into  English, 
saying  that  the  servant  or  secretary  of  Mr.  B.  had  ill 
treated  him  as  a  learned  man,  and  misrepresented  him 
10  the  respectable  Mr.  Bentham  as  a  beggar  and  impos- 
tor :  that  he  had  been  travelling  two  years  on  the  con- 
tinent to  see  the  face  of  the  respectable  Mr.  Bentham  ; 
and  if  Mr.  Bentham  would  not  see  him,  he  prayed 
him  to  write  a  line  to  say  that  he  had  received  the 
letter.  I  sent  the  letters  up  to  Mr.  B.  and  entertain- 
ed the  Greek  with  French,  Spanish,  Pantomime, 
and  Yankee  ;  during  which  I  satisfied  him  that  Mr. 
Bentham  wras  80  instead  of  40,  that  Bowring  was 
not  his  brother,  (Bowrin'  este  frati — Bentam?)  and 
that  there  was  no  MadnmeBenthamio  my  knowledge, 
along  with  some  other  matters.  At  last  the  object  of 
his  two  years  travail  appeared — his  white  hair  comb- 
ed smooth,  his  whole  countenance  glowing  with  good- 
nature and  humanity.  The  Greek  rose  at  his  ap- 
proach, and  doubled  himself  up,  and  the  colour  flash- 
ed over  his  swarthy  face,  and  he  appeared  vehement- 
ly affected.  The  philosopher  put  forth  his  hand  cor- 


1  1  0  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

dially  and  hailed  him  in  old  Greek.  The  modern  re- 
plied. Bentham  was  all  at  sea, — he  had  got  the  whole 
length  of  his  tether — speaking  and  reading  were  two 
very  different  matters  :  he  began  to  withdraw  ;  giving 
the  stranger  as  he  moved  away  a  little  scrap  of  paper, 
and  showing  him  that  he  had  received  the  Greek  let- 
ter, which  he  then  held  open  before  him.  I  was  de- 
lighted ;  for  the  paper  that  Mr.  Bentham  gave  him 
with  his  own  hand  was  to  say  that  he  could  not  see 
him.  It  ran  thus.  My  time  is  taken  up  with  the 
public.  I  have  none  to  spare  upon  individuals — none 
to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  individuals  however  worthy 
they  may  be.  Seeing  would  be  no  use  without  con- 
versing, and  conversing  would  take  time.  A  part  are 
the  very  words  of  the  writer,  a  part  are  perhaps  varied 
a  little  in  expression.  Bentham  nicht  capisco  Grceca 
antica,  was  one  of  the  first  phrases  that  dropped  from 
the  mouth  of  our  learned  Theban. 

15th  Feb.  1827.  Birth-day  of  the  philosopher  :  low- 
spirited  for  the  first  time  since  I  have  known  him; 
says  and  believes  he  shall  not  live  to  see  another  ; 
observed  to-day  for  the  first  time  that  his  knees  give 
away  under  him  in  walking — he  started — and  is  real- 
ly sad.  N.  B.  got  over  it  entirely  in  two  days.  At 
the  table,  when  we  drank  his  health,  Bowring  threw 
ofT  an  impromptu-toast — 

May  the  pilgrim-age 
Of  the  white-haired  sage 
Of  Queen-Square  Place 
Be  a  long — long  race. 

I  had  been  playing  at  Angelo's  fencing-rooms,  and 
remarked  as  I  sat  down  to  dinner,  heartily  fatigued 
with  the  display — There,  I  have  beaten  all  the  good 
players  now !  And  all  the  bad  ones  have  beaten  you, 
hey  ?  said  the  secretary  on  my  right.  That's  the 
reason  they're  bad,  quoth  the  white-haired  sage.  I 
saw  now  that  his  spirits  were  up  again,  his  jokes  on 
the  alert.  Having  asked  him  what  was  the  age  of 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  1  1 1 

somebody  he  spoke  of,  he  answered  with  affected 
petulance,  age — age — age  of  every  body  else.  Here 
noodle,  said  he  to  me  a  moment  afterwards,  with  an- 
other joke  in  his  eye.  What  d'ye  call  him  a  noodle 
for,  said  the  secretary.  Because  he's  a  Yankee-doo- 
dle, said  the  philosopher.  A  capital  reason  faith,  said 
I — it  reminds  me  of  Matthews'  story  about  the  water- 
man who  insisted  on  knowing  why  he  was  called  so. 
Vi,  said  coachee,  don't  you  open  the  coach-door,  you 
fool  ?  Vi,  so  I  does — answered  the  waterman,  perfect- 
ly satisfied.  So  with  you.  You  call  me  A.  because  I 
am  B.  No  no,  said  he — not  so  fast  young  man,  not 
as  you  know  on — it's  only  a  more  civil  way  of  saying 
so. 

Every  day  he  has  one  secretary  employed  in  mak- 
ing long  extracts  from  the  Morning-Chronicle,  though 
he  takes  the  paper  itself,  and  has  had  slips  along  with 
the  paper — there's  economy  for  you !  Wants  extra 
copies.  Why  ?  How  can  I  tell  what  I  may  want,  he 
says. 

March  15,  1827.  To-day  Mr.  Gallatin,  who  is  a 
native  as  every  body  knows  of  Geneva,  spoke  to  me 
of  his  townsman  and  old  associate,  Durnont.  Burr, 
(whom  he  called  an  ambitious  man,  with  a  shrug 
and  a  smile)  gave  him,  in  1793,  the  first  work  of 
Bentham's  to  read  which  he  had  ever  met  with  :  it 
was  the  English  quarto  on  Morals  and  Legislation, 
saying,  Here,  this  will  please  you  ;  it  is  too  dry  for 
me.  Since  which  Mr.  G.  had  read  every  thing  of 
B.'s  except  some  of  his  last  works,  which  he  could 
not  get.  I  spoke  of  M.  Dumont  and  of  his  eloquent 
vagueness.  He  agreed  with  me.  Dumont,  he  said, 
was  remarkable  for  style  ;  he  wrote  many  or  most 
of  Mirabeau's  celebrated  speeches — he  takes  the 
thoughts  of  another  and  turns  them  into  language. 
When  they  were  both  young  men,  (G.  and  D.)  they 
belonged  to  the  same  literary  society,  and  it  was  ob- 
served that  Dumont's  essays  were  always  remarkable 
both  for  vagueness  and  eloquence.  I  spoke  of  the  od- 


1  1  2  JEREMY  BENTIIAM. 

dity  of  Dumont's  remarks  on  vagueness,  declamation, 
poetry,  &c.  after  Bcntham — that  is,  copying  the  ideas 
from  Bentham,  whose  notions  were  evidently  as  un- 
like his,  about  style,  poetry,  &c.  as  any  body's  could 
be.  Mr.  Gallatin  laughed  and  said  Mr.  Bentham  had 
always  charged  M.  Dumont  with  having  castrated 
him. 

At  the  Johnson's  Club,  a  club  that  met  and  paid 
10s.  6d.  each  for  a  dinner  to  hear  Dr.  Johnson  talk, 
Mr.  Bentham  got  heartily  tired  of  his  arrogance. 
Did  you  ever  happen  to  see  his  biographer  ?  said  I. 
No  :  but  he  was  pointed  out  to  me  one  day  in  the 
street — I  did  not  see  him.  Here  followed  a  story 
about  Boswell  waiting  behind  after  dinner,  instead 
of  going  to  the  drawing-room  for  tea,  and  taking  ad- 
vantage of  the  absence  of  others,  to  empty  the  bot- 
tles that  were  left,  Burgundy,  Champaign,  &c.  Beat- 
tie,  the  moralist,  was  a  drunkard  also!  In  Boswell 
some  allusions  are  made  to  it,  in  a  delicate  way. 

About  a  month  ago,  I  suggested  to  Mr.  B.  the  pro- 
priety and  advantage  of  dictating  his  life  to  an  aman- 
uensis, every  evening  after  tea.  It  would  be  so  much 
time  saved,  and  after  his  death  money  would  come  of 
it  to  his  heirs,  and  profit  to  the  world.  He  received 
a  letter  urging  it,  about  the  same  time.  He  said  no — 
not  an  hour  to  give  up.  His  nephew  and  I  pressed 
him  still  further — as  it  could  not  interfere  with  his 
time,  and  his  style  in  familiar  narrative  was  free,  and 
rough,  and  peculiar,  like  old  port.  To-day,  Mr.  Bow- 
ring  is  at  work, — it  will  be  a  legacy  to  him  therefore  ; 
he  gives  up  two  evenings  a  week  for  it. 

M.  Dumont,  who  was  accustomed  to  the  fare  of 
Holland-House,  used  to  say  that  Mr.  B.  gave  radical 
dinners.  The  philosopher  did  not  much  like  it — he 
thought  it  'not  very  judicious.' 

March  26th.  A  letter  W7as  written  about  a  wreek 

ago,  says ,  to  be  made  use  of  with  Mr.  S.  the 

rich  and  public-spirited  banker,  averring  that  Bentham 
was  already  out  of  pocket  £3700  for  the  Westminster 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  1  1  3 

Review,  and  that  it  could  not  go  on  another  year 
without  an  advance  of  £1000  ;  £500  of  which  Bow- 
ring  the  patriot,  the  philanthropist  and  the  friend  of 
Bentham  was  to  have  in  his  threefold  capacity.  (40) 

To-day  we  had  a  capital  scene  between  secretary 
D.  and  Mr.  P.  the  solicitor  of  Warwickshire.  P. 
wanted  to  pump  D.  ;  but  D.  wouldn't  be  pumped. 
Mr.  Bentham  had  observed  one  day  to  P.,  that  he  had 
once  done  something  for  Voltaire  while  he  was  alive, 
which  if  he  and  Voltaire  had  met,  would  have  made 
them  well  acquainted  ;  after  which  he  alluded  to  a 
magazine  published  sixty  years  ago.  This  magazine 
our  indefatigable  friend  P.  forthwith  hunted  up;  and 
lo!  the  White-Bull  of  Voltaire,  translated  into  English, 
appeared.  Mr.  G.  B.,  the  nephew,  spoke  to  me  of 
the  same  thing  one  day;  but  I  had  then  no  idea,  nor 
had  he  from  what  I  said,  that  the  pumping,  the  march- 
ing and  the  countermarching,  between  D.  and  P. 
were  on  account  of  the  same  thing.  Yesterday  the 
codifier  got  upon  the  very  subject  of  the  Taureau 
Blanc;  laughed  heartily  himself,  and  made  us  laugh 
heartily  with  his  remarks  about  the  story  and  the  de- 
sign of  the  translator.  There  were  the  prophets, 
my  namesake  among  the  rest,  said  he;  they  were 
all  turned  into  magpies,  and  the  best  of  the  joke  was 
(laughing  all  the  while),  they  kept  on  just  as  if  no- 
thing had  happened.  The  wittiest  work  !  (Throw- 
ing up  his  eyes  and  shaking  his  head  slowly.)  There 
was  the  witch  of  Endor,  the  whale,  and  the  serpent, 
— and  the  prophets. 

April  4.  Mr.  B.  relates  a  story  of  Blackstone,  to 
be  repeated  in  Yankee-land.  *  As  early  as  sixteen,' 
said  he,  '  I  began  to  query  Blackstone,  my  Gama- 
liel, while  I  was  sitting  at  his  feet.  He  was  a  stiff, 

(40)  These  things  ought  never  to  be  passed  over.  Mr.  Bentham  threw 
away  £700  on  the  establishment  of  a  Gymnasium,  which  so  long  as  it  pros- 
pered, one  would  have  thought  was  the  joint  project  of  the  philosopher  and  the 
poet;  when  it  failed  however,  utterly  failed — it  proved  to  be  the  loss  of  th» 
former  alone. 

If) 


114  JEREMY   BENTHAM. 

pompous,  proud  quiz — Mansfield  couldn't  bear  him.  I 
told  you,  I  believe,  that  he,  M.,  had  the  whole  of  the 
Fragment  read  to  him,  and  liked  it  mightily.  When 
Blackstone  wasVinerian  professor  at  Queen's  College, 
Oxford,  he  sent  to  Dr.  Brown,  provost  of  the  college, 
to  know  what  distinction  should  be  awarded  to  him, 
or  how  he  should  be  ranked.  Tell  him,  said  Brown 
who  was  a  shrewd  fellow,  tell  him  he  may  walk  be- 
fore my  beadle, — the  beadle  that  preceded  him  with 
a  mace,  when  he  walked  out.  Mr.  Eden  (the  writer 
on  penal  law),  afterwards  Lord  Ackland,  and  Black- 
stone  did  something  together  once  which  Bentham 
approved.  (41)  Out  of  this  g*ew  something  of  Mr. 
Bentharn's,  about  which  Blackstone  wrote  him,  com- 
plimenting him  rather  highly. 

And  now  I  have  done  with  this  part  of  the  familiar 
biography  of  the  extraordinary  man,  whose  language, 
manner,  and  peculiarities  of  speech,  look  and  thought, 
I  have  tried  to  preserve  a  record  of.  Other  things  I 
might  mention,  but  they  would  be  out  of  place  now 
and  here.  The  reader  of  old-English  biography  how- 
ever, cannot  fail  to  perceive  a  startling  resemblance 
at  times  between  the  author  of  the  Leviathan,  Hobbes, 
and  the  author  of  Morals  and  Legislation.  Many  oth- 
er points  of  resemblance  might  be  mentioned  ;  but  it 
may  be  sufficient  to  indicate  a  few,  most  of  which  are 
already  referred  to, — leaving  the  reader  to  make  a  book 
for  himself  out  of  the  materials  here  furnished  to  his 
hand. 

Mr.  Bentham  is  so  afraid  of  death,  that  he  will  not 
allow  the  subject  to  be  discussed  before  him — he  is 
afraid  of  being  alone  after  dark;  he  is  either  read  to 
sleep  every  night,  or  left  to  fall  asleep  with  a  lamp 
burning;  and  he  is  a  believer  in  what  he  calls  ghosts  ; 
that  is,  in  a  something  which  makes  him  uneasy  in 
solitude  after  dark. 

(41)  They  were  the  originators  of  the  Hard-Labour  Bill,  which  led  to  his 
View  of  the  Hard-Labour  Bill. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  115 

So  with  the  author  of  the  Leviathan.  He  was  sub- 
ject to  occasional  terrors  ;  he  '  could  not  bear  to  be 
left  alone  in  an  empty  house:  he  could  not  even  in 
his  old  age  bear  any  discourse  of  death,  and  seemed 
to  cast  off  all  thoughts  of  it.  He  could  not  bear  to 
sleep  in  the  dark ;  and  if  his  candle  happened  to  go 
out  in  the  night,  he  would  awake  in  terror  and  amaze- 
ment.' (42)  And  'on  the  Earl  of  Devonshire's  re- 
moval from  Chatsworth,  the  philosopher,  then  in  a 
dying  state,  insisted  on  being  carried  away,  though  on 
a  feather-bed.  Various  motives  have  been  suggested 
to  account  for  this  extraordinary  terror.  Some  declar- 
ed he  was  afraid  of  spirits.'  '  The  terrible  enemy  of 
nature,  death,  is  always  before  him.'  (43) 

As  a  talker,  though  not  often  as  a  writer,  Mr.  Bent- 
ham  is  very  dogmatic;  and  very  much  of  an  egotist; 
but  still,  it  is  an  agreeable  sort  of  dogmatism,  and  the 
pleasantest,  the  best-founded,  and  the  most  excusable 
egotism  I  ever  met  with. 

So  with  Hobbes.  '  His  greatest  imperfection  was 
a  monstrous  egotism — the  fate  of  those  who  concen- 
trate all  their  observations  into  their  own  individual 
feelings.  There  are  minds  wrhich  think  too  much,  by 
conversing  too  little  with  books  and  men.  Hobbes  ex- 
ulted he  had  read  little,  and  was  a  solitary  man.'  So 
does  Mr.  Bentham — '  Hence  he  always  saw  things  in 
his  own  way.7 

'  He  wrote  against  dogmas  with  a  spirit  perfectly  dog- 
matic. He  liked  conversation — peevishly  referring  to 
his  own  works  whenever  contradicted ;  and  his  friends 
stipulated  with  strangers  that  they  should  not  dispute 
with  the  old  man.''  Mr.  Bowring  often  does  this,  after 
having  persuaded  Mr.  Bentham  to  see  them;  or  if  he 
does  not  stipulate  to  this  effect,  he  himself  is  careful 
never  to  dispute  with  Mr.  Bentham,  and  usually 
hints  as  much  to  others.  '  Selden  has  often  quitted 

(42)  Dick  on  the  Future  State. 

(43)  D'Israeli. 


116  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

the  room  of  Hobbes — or  Hobbes  been  driven  from 
it  in  the  fierceness  of  their  battle.'  The  very  same 
thing  may  be  said  of  Mr.  Mill,  the  author  of  British- 
India,  and  of  some  others,  during  their  intercourse 
with  Mr.  Bentham.  Yet  no  man  is  readier  to  forget 
and  forgive — but  he  cannot  talk,  he  says ;  and  they 
who  can,  get  the  advantage  of  him. 

Another  resemblance  may  be  found  in  their  great 
age,  and  greater  industry.  Hobbes  '  delighted  to  show 
he  was  living  by  annual  publications.  His  health  and 
his  studies  were  the  sole  object  of  his  thoughts ;  and 
notwithstanding  that  panic  which  so  often  disturbed 
him,  he  wrote  and  published  beyond  his  ninetieth 
year.'  So  with  Mr.  Bentham — he  is  now  upwards  of 
eighty ;  continually  occupied  with  new  works,  in  bet- 
ter health,  and  in  a  fuller  enjoyment  of  life  now  than 
he  was  ten  years  ago. 

Now,  before  the  reader  throws  away  the  character 
of  Jeremy  Bentham,  as  it  appears  of  record  in  the 
preceding  pages,  I  pray  him  to  go  over  the  whole 
for  a  few  minutes  in  his  own  mind,  and  say  whether 
after  all,  such  anecdotes  are  not  of  a  thousand  times 
more  worth  to  the  understanding  of  a  great  man's 
nature,  than  the  most  able  and  eloquent  panegyric  in 
the  world. 

Plutarch  is  no  favourite  of  mine  ;  yet  his  touches  of 
characters  appear  inimitable  even  to  me.  Agesilaus 
astride  of  a  stick  ;  Alexander  swallowing  the  medi- 
cine to  show  his  faith  in  human  virtue  ;  Philopoemen 
cutting  wood  in  the  kitchen  of  his  host  ;  Alcibiades 
letting  off  the  bird  in  a  public  assembly  or  cropping 
the  tail  of  his  beautiful  dog  ;  Epaminondas  working 
as  a  scavenger  ;  Aristides  writing  his  name  upon  the 
shell — these  are  the  true  men,  the  live  men  of  history. 
'  La  physionomie  ne  se  montre  pas  dans  les  grands 
traits,  ni  le  caractere  dans  les  grandes  actions ;  c'est 
dans  les  bagatelles  que  le  naturel  se  decouvre,'  says 
Rousseau,  prefatory  to  the  following  anecdote  and 
the  following  observation  about  familiar  biography. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  117 

*  Turenne  was  incontestably  one  of  the  greatest  men 
of  the  last  age.  I  will  give  one  anecdote  of  him 
which  I  have  on  good  authority,  '  et  que  Plutarque 
n'eut  eu  garde  d'omettre,  mais  que  Ramsai  (the  Bio- 
grapher of  Turenne)  n'eut  eu  garde  d'  ecrire  quand  il 
1'aurait  su.' 

'  Un  jour  d'  etc  qu'il  faisait  fort  chaud,  le  vicomte 
de  Turenne,  en  petite  veste  blanche  et  en  bonnet,  etoit 
a  la  fenetre  dans  son  antichambre :  un  de  ses  gens 
survient,  et  trompe  par  1'habillernent,  le  prend  pour 
un  aide  de  cuisin  avec  lequel  ce  domestique  etoit  fa- 
milier.  II  s'approche  doucement  par-derriere,  et 
d'une  main  qui  n'etoit  pas  legere  lui  applique  un  grand 
coup  sur  les  fesses.  L'homine  frappe  se  retourne  a 
1'instant.  Le  valet  voit  en  fremissant  le  visage  de 
son  maitre.  II  se  jette  a  genoux  tout  eperdu.  Mon- 
seigneur  fai  cru  que  c* etoit  George.  Et  quand  c'eut  cte 
George  s'ecrie  Turenne  en  se  frottant  le  derriere,  il 
nefaltait  pas  f rapper  si  fort,  Voila  done  ce  que  n'osez 
dire  ces  miserables !'  continues  the  eloquent  Rousseau, 
'the  apostle  of  affliction.' — '  Soyez  done  a  jamais 
sans  naturel,  sans  entrailles  ;  trempez,  durcissez  vos 
coeurs  de  fer  dans  votre  vile  decence,  rendez-vous  me- 
prisables  a  force  de  dignite.' 

It  is  by  these  things  and  by  these  things  only  that 
we  are  brought  acquainted  with  men,  as  men  ;  but 
biographies  are  intended  to  make  us  acquainted 
with  the  men  (44) — their  works  are  enough  to  show 

(44)  Without  referring  to  the  pompous  biographies  that  encumber  the  table 
of  every  English  scholar,  I  may  allude  to  the  biography  of  Johnson  by  Boswell. 
Who  would  not  forgive  the  gossip  and  childishness  to  be  found  there,  in  consi- 
deration of  the  truth  upon  which,  as  upon  a  texture  of  fine  gold,  the  rest  of  the  ' 
work  is  wrought  ?  To  state  such  a  question,  you  would  suppose  were  to  answer  it. 
But  such  is  not  the  opinion  of  the  lettered  or  the  exceedingly  wise  of  our  earth. 
No — they  stand  upon  their  dignity.  And  they  would  have  other  people  stand 
upon  theirs.  They  are  believers  in  the  maxim,  that  Familiarity  breeds  con- 
tempt— and  are  afraid,  if  they  encourage  familiar  biography,  of  being  treated 
in  the  same  way  after  their  death.  Says  M.  Palissot,  the  editor  of  Voltaire,  in 
his  IVfcmoires  sur  la  litterature,  while  speaking  of  Helvetius  and  his  editor,  L'au- 
teuj  de  cette  preface,  qui  parait  tris-attache  non-seulement  a  la  personne  d' 
Helvttius,  mais  a  ses  opinions,  aurait  pu  se  dispenser,  d'y  placer  quelques  fails 
qu'on  est  tente  de  revoquer  en  doute  par  egard  pour  la  memoire  de  cet  homme 
celBbre.  Est-il  bien  avere,  par  example  que  ce  philosophe  ait  danse  pub- 
liquement  d  I' opera,  sous  le  nom  ct  le  masque  de,  Javilfier,  et  qu'il  ait  ete 


118  JEREMY  BENTHAM. 

their  philosophy  and  their  science.  A  book  might 
be  made  in  the  shape  of  a  review  or  a  laboured  ana- 
lysis of  Jeremy  Bentham's  works,  but  who  would 
read  it?  I  prefer  letting  him  speak  for  himself; 
and  therefore,  having  introduced  him  to  the  read- 
er, and  set  them  down  to  the  same  table  toge- 
ther, I  shall  leave  Mr.  Bentham  by  the  help  of  Mr. 
Dumont,  to  show  the  vastness  and  the  strength  and 
the  beauty  of  his  understanding  as  a  legislator  and 
a  philosopher,  in  his  own  way. 

P.  S. — The  outline  portrait  of  Mr.  Bentham,  here- 
with offered  to  the  public,  is  engraved  from  a  very 
faithful  and  spirited  sketch  from  life,  by  Mr.  Robert 
M.  Sully,  a  Virginian  of  great  promise,  nephew  to 
Mr.  T.  Sully,  now  of  Philadelphia.  Mr.  Bentham 
sat  to  him  in  the  year  1827  :  but  Mr.  S.  did  not  suc- 
ceed so  entirely  with  the  portrait  as  I  could  have 
wished.  To  gratify  me  however,  he  took  a  sketch 
one  day  as  they  were  together.  From  that  sketch 
left  by  me  in  the  hands  of  the  family,  a  copy  was 
traced  by  the  secretary  of  Mr.  B.  from  which  copy 
the  engraving  is  made.  It  is  altogether  very  strik- 
ing and  characteristic  ;  and  will  be  observed  to  bear 
a  considerable  resemblance  to  Dr.  Franklin, — a  bust 
of  whom,  by  the  way,  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr. 
Mill,  the  father,  which  was  sent  to  him  by  a  friend 
at  Paris,  on  account  of  its  surprising  resemblance  to 
Mr.  Bentham. 

applaudi,  comme  ce  danseur  avait  coutume  de  I'&tre.  Helvetius  jeune 
aurait-il  ete  capable  de  la  mgrne  folie  ?  c'est  ce  que  nous  nous  garderons  bien 
d'affirmer,  et  ce  qui,  en  supposant  le  fait  vrai,  etait  pen  digne  d'entrer 
dans  rhistorie  d'un  philosophe.  Such  is  the  opinion  of  a  dignified  writer, — 
of  one  who  thinks  a  philosopher  will  not  bear  to  have  the  truth  told  of  him. 
Such  a  writer  would  scruple  to  record  the  story  of  the  chicken  that  somebody 
ate  for  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  the  hole  for  the  large  cat  and  the  hole  for  the  small 
one  he  had  cut  in  the  door  ;  and  peradventure  the  fall  of  the  apple  or  the 
blowing  of  the  soap-bubbles.  How  much  of  human  nature  would  be  discover- 
ed by  the  successful  result  of  such  a  frolic  as  we  have  recorded  here  of  Hel- 
vetius. To  be  mistaken  by  the  French  people — on  the  boards  of  a  French  opera 
— for  their  chief  dancer,  on  account  of  the  mask  and  the  part — what  was  it 
but  a  magnificent  experiment  on  their  most  familiar  propensities  ? 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  119 


CHAPTER    GET    UTILITY. 


•THE     CREATES  T-H  APPINESS    PRINCIPLE.' 


THE  most  extraordinary  notions  are  abroad  respect- 
ing UTILITY,  and  the  followers  of  Utility — the  UTILI- 
TARIANS ;  the  former  being  seldom  alluded  to  with- 
out a  sneer,  and  the  latter  never.  The  very  name  is 
enough.  To  call  a  man  a  Utilitarian — what  is  it  but 
to  call  him  by  a  very  odd  name  ?  And  what  are  odd 
names  good  for  but  to  be  laughed  at  ? 

A  short  history  of  the  sect,  and  of  their  faith,  ac- 
companied by  a  few  remarks  on  what,  both  are  be- 
lieved to  be,  and  represented  to  be,  by  those  who  are 
not  acquainted  with  either,  may  not  be  out  of  place, 
nor  uninteresting  here. 

JEREMY  BENTHAM  is  the  head  of  a  party  who  have 
adopted  the  name  of  Utilitarians.  I  also  am  of  that 
faith — although  not  of  the  party ;  for  some  of  their 
doctrines  I  do  not  subscribe  to,  and  a  few  of  the 
practices,  and '  teachings,  particularly  of  certain  of 
the  more  youthful  among  them,  are  absolutely  hate- 
ful in  my  eyes,  and  worthy  of  punishment  by  law. 
But,  nevertheless,  I  am  a  Utilitarian,  to  the  full 
extent  of  what  I  understand  by  the  word  Utili- 
ty, or  by  the  motto  above — '  The  greatest  happiness 
principled  To  that  law  I  suffer  no  exception  :  I  re- 
cognize no  duties,  no  rights  in  opposition  to  it.  I 
preach  Bentham  heartily  and  without  qualification  so 
far.  I  do  not  stop  half  way,  with  the  late  president 
Adams,  who  in  speaking  of  the  institutions  of  Lycur- 
gus,  the  Spartan  lawgiver,  says,  But  as  a  system  of 


120  ON  UTILITY. 

Legislation  which  should  never  have  any  other  end  than 
the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number — SAVING 
TO  ALL  THEIR  RIGHTS,  it  was  not  only  the  least  re- 
spectable, but  the  most  detestable  of  all  Greece.'  I 
do  not  say,  '  The  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number — saving  to  all  their  rights — No !  for  I  ac- 
novvledge  no  rights  that  can  interfere  with  the  great- 
est happiness  of  the  greatest  number — none  whatever, 
not  even  that  '  of  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  hap- 
piness'— to  borrow  the  awkward,  and  either  very  un- 
meaning or  very  untrue  phraseology  of  most  of  our 
constitutions.  If  it  be  better  for  the  greatest  happi- 
ness of  the  greatest  number  that  a  man  should  die, 
whoever  he  may  be,  and  whatever  he  may  be,  cut  him 
off" without  mercy.  And  so  with  his  liberty,  and  so 
with  his  property.  But  have  a  care — be  certain  that 
it  will  promote  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number,  before  you  do  so  ;  ay,  before  you  cut  off  the 
greatest  criminal  that  walks  the  earth  ;  before  you 
spoil  the  highway-robber  of  his  liberty,  or  deprive 
him  of  his  property. 

Here  is  a  rule  of  conduct  which  never  can  deceive 
us — though,  to  be  sure,  it  may  give  to  a  bad  man. 
here  and  there,  an  outward  justification  for  misbeha- 
viour ;  just  as  every  other  great  truth  may.  And  so 
far  it  may  be  called,  what  the  chief  adversary  of  Bent- 
ham  called  it,  nearly  fifty  years  ago,  ^'dangerous  doc- 
trine. B<wt  fire-arms  are  dangerous — and  that  very 
law  which  requires  of  man  to  do  as  he  would  be  done 
by,  is  dangerous  in  precisely  the  same  way.  If  we 
are  weak,  or  blind,  or  perverse,  we  may  judge  wrong. 
If  we  are  wicked  or  too  ingenious  for  truth,  we  may 
pretend  to  judge,  as  we  do  not. 

This  magnificent  rule  of  conduct,  which  may  be 
regarded  as  the  greatest  discovery  in  morals  that  ever 
was  made,  did  not  originate  with  Bentham.  Ages 
ago,  people  talked  about  the  fitness  of  things  ;  and 
Helvetius,  that  extraordinary  Frenchman,  had  got  his 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  121 

• 

foot  upon  the  shadow  of  the  pyramid,  and  was  pre- 
paring to  measure  its  altitude  for  the  benefit  of  all  who 
were  at  sea,  in  the  vast  ocean  of  morality,  when  Mr. 
Archdeacon  Paley  appeared,  and  brought  forth  a  new 
instrument,  under  the  name  of  UTILITY,  and  gave  us 
what  we  required — a  name  for  that,  which  will  here- 
after be  a  guide  for  the  nations,  a  pillar  of  light,  for 
the  journeying  ages  that  are  to  follow  in  the  footsteps 
of  this. 

And  after  Paley,  came  Bentham — who  looking 
abroad  with  the  eye  of  one  that  is  able  to  read  the 
universe  of  thought  like  a  map,  and  fixing  upon  two 
or  three  first  principles,  in  Morals  and  Legislation,  as 
clear  and  as  satisfactory,  as  the  law  of  gravitation  in 
physics,  laid  the  foundation  of  a  new  science,  which, 
for  the  want  of  a  better,  we  may  call  by  the  name  of 
UTILITY. 

The  Greeks  had  their  notions  of  Utility,  and  so 
had  the  Romans;  (45)  but  they  were  the  vague,  sha- 
dowy, imperfect  type  of  the  substantial  doctrine 
which  has  lately  begun  to  be  thought  of,  studied  and 
understood,  by  certain  of  the  ablest  men  of  Europe. 

Among  the  moderns,  Helvetiusand  Paley,  the  latter 
of  whom  borrowed  his  whole  ground-work  from  the 
former,  though  the  superstructure  is  entirely  his  own, 
are  entitled  to  the  chief  praise  for  having  stripped 
the  doctrine  of  all  mystery  and  qualification,  and 
made  it  what  it  deserves  to  be  considered,  a  perfect 
rule  of  conduct ;  a  rule  even  more  perfect  than  that, 
which  appears  at  first  view  to  be  incapable  of  im- 
provement— i.  e. — the  rule  which  commands  you  to 

(45)  Cicero,  in  his  Offices,  undertakes  to  say  that  self-interest  (which  right- 
ly understood  is  the  ground-work  of  Utility)  would,  if  established  as  the  motive 
of  human  actions,  be  the  destruction  of  morality.  Sunt  nonnullae  disciplince 
quse  otficium  omne  pervertunt.  \arn  qui  summuin  bonum  sic  instituit,  ut  nihil 
habeat  cum  virtute  conjunctum,  idque  suis  commodis,  non  honestate  metitur, 
hie,  si  sibi  ipse  consentiat,  tt  non  interdum  natures  bonitate  vincatur, 
neque  amicitiam  colere  possit,  nee  juxtitiam,  nee  liberalitatem :  fortis 
vero,  dolorern  summuin  rualuru  judicans  ;  aut  temperans,  voluptatem  sum- 
mum  vinum  statuens,  esse  certe  nullo  modo  potest. 

16 


122  ON  UTILITY. 

others  as  you  would  that  others  should  do  unto  you  : 
for  that,  in  some  cases,  would  not  be  a  sure  guide 
for  the  understanding.  As  for  example — A  judge  is 
about  to  give  sentence  of  death.  What  if  the  cul- 
prit were  to  say  to  him — Art  thou  of  a  truth  a  Chris- 
tian ?  If  so — do  as  thou  would'st  be  done  by — let 
me  go  free.  How  could  the  judge  escape — what 
plea  could  he  offer  ?  It  might  be  said,  to  be  sure, 
that  the  criminal  after  setting  aside  the  law,  for  his 
own  gratification,  should  not  be  allowed  to  set  it 
up  again,  for  a  defence  against  the  consequences  of 
his  act.  But  how  would  that  excuse  the  judge  ? 
for  he,  whether  the  criminal  pleaded  or  not,  would 
be  bound  ex  officio,  to  take  notice  of  the  law ;  and 
therefore  to  do  as  he  would  be  done  by.  It  might  be 
said  too — for  jt  has  been  said — that  the  judge  who 
proceeds  to  give  sentence  of  death  on  a  fellow-crea- 
ture, notwithstanding  the  law,  Thou  shall  do  as  thou 
wonkiest  be  done  by,  does  so,  not  in  violation  but  in 
confirmation  of  that  law,  inasmuch  as  if  he  had  done 
what  the  culprit  has  done — he  would  be  willing  to 
receive  sentence  of  death.  But  this  I  take  to  be  a 
wretched  fallacy,  a  mere  subterfuge  ;  and  the  law 
itself,  so  far,  as  imperfect.  (46) 

(46)  A  stranger  has  given  a  better  view  of  the  matter  in  the  following  ob- 
servations : 

'  To  the  remarks  on  the  golden  rule  of  our  Saviour,  I  seriously  object :  they 
seem  to  me  to  lower  the  standard  of  Christian  morality  and  detract  something 
from  the  authority  of  the  precepts  of  Jesus  Christ.  Do  unto  others  as  you 
would  that  others  should  do  unto  you,  is  in  my  opinion  a  perfect  rule  of 
moral  conduct.  Notwithstanding  all  that  has  been  said,  I  cannot  imagine  a 
case  to  which  it  is  not  applicable.  A  judge  is  called  to  sentence  a  criminal  ; 
he  is  a  Christian  ;  he  does  his  duty  ;  he  does  as  a  Christian  placed  in  the  situa- 
tion of  the  criminal  would  wish  a  judge  to  do — his  duty.  The  golden  rule  is 
not,  do  unto  others  as  they  wish  you  to  do  unto  them — which  seems  to  be  all 
that  your  correspondent  understands  it  to  be — but  do  as  you,  a  Christian,  one 
who  has  too  much  reverence  for  justice  to  wish  it  perverted  on  his  own  account, 
one  who  can  say  to  his  Father  in  heaven,  thy  will  be  done — One  who  believes 
that  all  things,  even  the  severest  punishment  which  human  laws  inflict,  will 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God — wish  that  others  should  do 
unto  you.' 

The  argument  here  is  exceedingly  well  stated,  and  perhaps,  if  Christians 
were  what  they  should  be,  and  all  men  Christians,  willing  to  do  their  duty  and 
suffer  death  because  the  law  has  declared  them  to  be  worthy  of  death,  it  might 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  123 

Now,  suppose  that,  instead  of  being  told  to  do  as 
we  would  be  done  by  in  all  cases  ;  we  were  told  to 
do  that,  which  would  produce  the  greatest  happiness 
to  the  greatest  number.  Here  then  would  be  a  law 

O 

about  which  there  could  be  no  dispute.  It  would 
apply  in  all  cases — in  every  age.  This  in  fact  is 
the  law  of  Utility — the  great  pervading  and  abiding 
principle  of  that  new  sect,  not  in  religion,  but  in  mo- 
rals, who  are  known  abroad,  and  are  beginning  to  be 
known  here,  as  Utilitarians. 

Suppose  a  familiar  case.  I  see  a  beggar  in  the 
street,  evidently  starving.  To  do  as  I  would  be  done 
by,  I  should  feed  him ;  because  were  I  in  his  con- 
dition, I  should  wish  to  be  fed.  But  suppose  I  knew — 
was  perfectly  satisfied,  that  by  feeding  him  I  should 

be  a  perfect  rule.  It  amounts  to  this — and  only  this  however,  according  to 
the  interpretation  of  the  writer  whose  language  I  have  quoted — Do  your  duty  ; 
we  say  the  same  thing  ;  we  say — Do  your  duty  !  But  another  question  arises, 
what  is  your  duty  where  you  are  condemned  to  death  by  the  law  ?  We  say 
it  is  to  die,  if  by  dying  you  will  promote  the  greater  happiness  of  the  greater 
number  ;  to  escape,  if  by  escaping  you  promote  the  greater  happiness  of  the 
greater  number.  But  says  the  stranger — '  the  golden  rule  is  not  to  do  unto 
others  as  they  wish  you  to  do  unto  them — but  do  as  you,  a  Christian,  one  who 
has  too  much  reverence  for  justice  to  wish  it  perverted  on  his  own  account — 
wish  that  others  should  do  unto  you.' 

This  is  unanswerable.  There  is  no  denying — no  resisting  such  truth,  so 
stated.  And  all  I  have  to  say  now  is,  that,  if  Christians  were  Christians,  the 
meaning  of  the  rule,  as  so  interpreted,  would  be  perfect  ;  though  the  very 
discussion  we  are  now  involved  in,  proves  that  the  meaning  is  not  perfectly  un- 
derstood by  every  body,  and  that,  therefore,  as  a  rule,  it  is  not  a.  perfect  rule. 

And  we  may  add  that  it  would  be  about  as  difficult  for  a  man  on  trial  for 
his  life  to  judge  by  the  rule  of  utility,  and  judge  truly  and  impartially,  as  by 
the  golden  rule  of  the  Saviour.  If  because  the  judge,  were  he  in  the  place  of 
the  criminal,  would  like  to  escape  death,  he  ought  therefore  to  let  the  criminal 
go  free — why  not  object  to  the  principle  of  utility  in  the  same  way  ? — As  the 
judge,  if  he  were  in  the  place  of  the  criminal  at  the  bar  would  be  likely  to 
imagine  that  it  would  be  for  the  happiness  of  the  greatest  number  for  him  to 
be  set  free,  he  ought  therefore  to  set  the  criminal  free.  The  answer  is — that  in 
every  such  case  the  application  of  the  principle  of  utility  may  be  made  with 
much  less  risk  than  any  other,  because  the  judge  has  to  ask  himself,  not  what 
he  should  think  or  do,  were  he  in  the  place  of  the  criminal,  but  what  he  ought 
to  do  as  a  judge.  He  is  not  to  ask  himself  what  he  would  wish  or  do  were  he 
at  the  bar,  instead  of  being  on  the  bench — he  is  not  to  seek  out  the  meaning 
of  the  words,  do  unto  others  as  you  would  that  they  should  do  unto  you — he 
has  merely  to  satisfy  himself  that  a  partibular  course  of  conduct  would  be  more 
conformable  to  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number.  And  so  far 
therefore — in  its  simplicity  and  directness,  it  may  be  that  our  rule  has  the  ad- 
vantage over  that  which,  though  attributed  to  the  Saviour  as  if  it  had  originat- 
ed with  him,  is  in  fact  the  offspring  of  heathen  philosophy. 


124  ON  UTILITY. 

do  more  injury  than  good  to  society?  What  then? 
To  do  as  I  would  be  done  by,  would  be  to  act  and 
leave  the  consequences  to  take  care  of  themselves. 
Not  so  with  Utility. 

The  chapter  alluded  to  in  Paley  is  very  short,  and 
like  most  of  that  able  man's  writings,  very  much  to 
the  purpose.  It  runs  thus  : 

1  So  then  actions  are  to  be  estimated  by  their  ten- 
dency. (47)  Whatever  is  expedient,  is  right.  It  is 
the  utility  of  any  moral  rule  alone,  which  constitutes 
the  obligation  of  it. 

'  But  to  all  this  there  seems  a  plain  objection,  viz. 
{,that  many  actions  are  useful,  which  no  man  in  his 
senses  will  allow  to  be  right.  There  are  occasions 
in  which  the  hand  of  the  assassin  would  be  very  use- 
ful. The  present  possessor  of  some  great  estate  em- 
ploys his  influence  and  fortune,  to  annoy,  corrupt,  or 
oppress,  all  about  him.  His  estate  would  devolve  by 
his  death,  to  a  successor  of  an  opposite  character.  It 
is  useful;  therefore,  to  despatch  such  a  one  as  soon  as 
possible  out  of  the  way  ;  as  the  neighbourhood  will 
exchange  thereby  a  pernicious  tyrant  for  a  wise  and 
generous  benefactor.  It  might  be  useful  to  rob  a 
miser,  and  give  the  money  to  the  poor ;  as  the  money, 
no  doubt  would  produce  more  happiness,  by  being 
laid  out  in  food  and  clothing  for  half  a  dozen  dis- 
tressed families,  than  by  continuing  locked  up  in  a 
miser's  chest.  It  may  be  useful  to  get  possession  of 
a  place,  a  piece  of  preferment,  or  a  seat  in  parlia- 
ment, by  bribery  or  false  swearing,  as  by  means  of 
them  we  may  serve  the  public  more  effectually  than 
in  our  private  station.  What  then  shall  we  say  ? 

(47)  Actions  in  the  abstract  are  right  or  wrong,  according  to  their  tendency  : 
the  agent  is  virtuous  or  vicious,  according  to  his  design.  Thus,  if  the  question 
be,  Whether  relieving  common  beggars  be  right  or  wrong  ?  we  inquire  into 
the  tendency  of  sucli  a  conduct  to  the  public  advantage  or  inconvenience.  If 
the  question  be,  Whether  a  man,  remarkable  for  this  sort  of  bounty,  is  to  be 
esteemed  virtuous  for  that  reason  ?  we  inquire  into  his  design,  whether  his  li- 
berality sprang  from  charity  or  from  ostentation  ?  It  is  evident  that  our  concern 
is  with  actions  in  the  abstract. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  125 

Must  we  admit  these  actions  to  be  right,  which 
would  be  to  justify  assassination,  plunder  and  perjury; 
or  must  we  give  up  our  principle,  that  the  criterion 
of  right  is  utility  ? 

4  It  is  not  necessary  to  do  either. 

'  The  true  answer  is  this  ;  that  these  actions,  after 
all,  are  not  useful,  and  for  that  reason,  and  that  alone, 
are  not  right. 

'  To  see  the  point  perfectly,  it  must  be  observed, 
that  the  bad  consequences  of  actions  are  two-fold, 
particular  and  general. 

'  The  particular  bad  consequence  of  an  action,  is  the 
mischief  which  that  single  action  directly  and  imme- 
diately occasions. 

'  The  general  bad  consequence  is,  the  violation  of 
some  necessary  or  useful  general  rule. 

'  Thus,  the  particular  bad  consequence  of  the  assas- 
sination above  described,  is  the  fright  and  pain  which 
the  deceased  underwent ;  the  loss  he  suffered  of  life, 
which  is  as  valuable  to  a  bad  man,  as  to  a  good  one, 
or  more  so;  the  prejudice  and  affliction  of  which  his 
death  was  the  occasion,  to  his  family,  friends,  and 
dependants. 

'  The  general  bad  consequences  is  the  violation  of 
this  necessary  general  rule,  that  no  man  be  put  to 
death  for  his  crimes  but  by  public  authority. 

'  Although,  therefore,  such  an  action  have  no  parti- 
cular bad  consequences,  or  may  have  greater  particu- 
lar good  consequences,  yet  it  is  not  useful,  by  reason 
of  the  general  consequence,  which  is  of  more  import- 
ance, and  which  is  evil.  And  the  same  of  the  other 
two  instances,  and  of  a  million  more  which  might 
be  mentioned. 

'  But  as  this  solution  supposes,  that  the  moral  go- 
vernment of  the  world  must  proceed  by  general  rules, 
it  remains  that  we  should  show  the  necessity  of  this.' 
Thus  much  for  the  real  doctrine  of  Utility.  Be- 
fore we  go  to  the  misrepresentations  and  mistakes 
above  referred  to,  et  us  lay  down  the  rule  in  another 


126  ON   UTILITY. 

shape,  without  fear  or  favour,  and  try  it  with  a  be- 
coming courage — carry  us  where  it  may. 

Do  any  thing,  says  the  advocate  of  utility,  if  by 
doing  it  you  produce  more  good  than  evil.     Murder, 
lie  and  steal.     Stop  at  no  crime.     Butcher  your  pa- 
rents or  your  children.     Make  war  upon  your  coun- 
try— do  what  you  please — make  war  upon  heaven,  if 
you  will.     But  before  you  move  one  step  in  the  work, 
before  you  breathe  your  purpose  aloud — be  sure  that 
you  are  going  to  produce  more  good  than  evil.     If  you 
are  not  certain — stop.     If  you  are  not  certain  that 
the  act  must  produce  more  good  than  mischief,  what- 
ever may  happen — though  the  sky  should  fall — do  not 
lift  a  finger.     But  are  you  never  to  do  some  evil,  that 
good  may  come  of  it?     Yes,  if  that  be  your  motive; 
and  if  it  be  such  evil  as  you,  yourself,  would  not  be 
ashamed  to  avow.     Suppose  a  madman  were  pursu- 
ing a  little  child.     Suppose  the  child  were  to  pass 
you,  and  escape  into  a  hiding-place,  without  being 
seen  by  the  pursuer;  and  suppose  he  were  to  ask  you 
if  the  child  had  gone  that  way,  and  you  were  to  say 
he  had  not — you  would  be  telling  a  falsehood,  not 
with  a  certainty  of  saving  the  child's  life,  but  with  a 
prospect  of  doing  so.    Would  you  be  justified?    That 
would  depend  upon  your  own  views  of  utility?     If 
your  untruth,  on  account  of  your  character,  the  sta- 
tion you  occupied,  or  the  incapacity  of   those  who 
were  about  you,  were  likely  to  introduce  a  habit  of 
untruth    in    trivial  cases,   it   might  be   questionable 
whether  you  had  done  most  evil  or  good.     But  sup- 
pose you  knew  that  by  telling  the  untruth,  you  would 
save  a  fellow-creature's  life ;  and  suppose  the  pursu- 
er, instead  of  being  a  madman,  were  a  man  capable 
of  committing  murder;  and  suppose  you  knew  there- 
fore, that  by  telling  the  untruth,  you  would  not  only 
save  the  life  of  the  child,  but  the  life  of  the  murder- 
er— and  perhaps  his  soul — what  then?     Would  you 
be  justifiable?    You  might  be — or  you  might  not.     If 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  127 

you  were  the  high-priest  of  a  nation  that  could  not 
perceive  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of  such  distinc- 
tions;  if  they  were  likely  to  stop  at  no  untruth  for 
any  purpose,  or  even  to  disregard  truth  in  their  daily 
intercourse  with  each  other,  in  consequence  of  your 
example,  it  might  be  better  for  both  to  perish,  the 
child  and  the  murderer,  than  for  you  to  be  guilty  of 
untruth. 

It  comes  to  this,  then,  you  will  say — Every  man  is 
to  judge  for  himself.  Certainly.  But  is  not  that  a 
dangerous  doctrine?  Assuredly  it  is,  and  so  is  every 
other  doctrine  of  power — if  it  be  wilfully  perverted. 
He  who  would  steal  or  lie,  under  pretence  of  consult- 
ing the  great  principle  of  Utility,  is  the  very  man 
who  would  steal  or  lie,  under  pretence  of  doing  as 
he  would  be  done  by.  If  he  would  excuse  himself 
by  saying  that  he  did  the  mischief  under  an  idea  that 
more  good  than  evil  would  come  of  it,  he  must 
either  speak  the  truth,  or  not  speak  the  truth.  If 
he  does  not  speak  the  truth,  he  would  not  scruple  to 
say,  if  he  were  pressed,  that  by  taking  another's  pro- 
perty, he  had  done  as  he  would  be  done  by.  And  if 
he  did  speak  the  truth,  he  is  only  to  be  pitied  like 
every  other  conscientious  man  who  errs,  not  for  lack 
of  honesty,  but  for  lack  either  of  judgment  or  educa- 
tion. The  result  is,  that  you  are  to  teach  people  to 
see  the  truth,  to  look  ahead,  to  judge  fairly.  In  other 
words,  you  are  to  educate  them. 

Now,  without  stopping  to  enquire  into  the  doctrine 
of  Utility,  as  it  appeared  by  glimpses  in  the  writings 
or  teachings  of  the  ancients,  (48)  let  us  go  straight- 
way to  such  of  the  moderns  as  have  contributed  to 
give  it  a  shape,  and  set  forth  a  few  samples  of  the  kind 
of  error  that  prevails  generally,  I  might  say  univer- 
sally, among  those  who  pretend  to  write  upon  the 
subject.  The  reader  will  be  surprised  to  find  such  a 

(48)  See  note  on  page  123,  on  the  subject  of  self-interest. 


128  ON  UTILITY. 

man  as  the  late  president  John  Adams  erring  egregi- 
ously  in  the  very  outset  of  a  paragraph,  meant  to  be 
a  serious  and  rather  formal  annunciation  of  his  faith, 
and  he  will  perhaps  be  more  astonished  when  he 
comes  to  see  the  celebrated  Mr.  Colton,  the  author 
of  Lacon,  that  severe  thinker,  and  otherwise  extraor- 
dinary man,  absolutely  blundering  about  the  same 
subject,  with  a  pertinacity  and  a  composure  only  to 
be  equalled  by  some  parts  of  '  De  Lolme  on  the  con- 
stitution of  England,'  or  by  that  man,  the  author  of  a 
reply  to  Beccaria,  who  by  way  of  showing,  to  the  ut- 
ter confusion  of  all  those  who  alluded  to  perpetual 
motion,  even  as  a  figure  of  speech,  that  the  very  idea 
was  impossible,  profoundly  observed,  that  as  all  ma- 
terials were  perishable,  there  could  be  no  such  thing 
as  perpetual  motion.  Just  so  with  a  multitude  more 
— they  have  erred  as  strangely  in  what  they  have  said 
of  this  new  doctrine  and  of  its  followers. 

HOBBES,  in  the  Leviathan,  declares  that  the  safety 
of  the  people  should  be  the  supreme  law ;  that  public 
good  in  every  case  whatever,  should  prevail  over  pri- 
vate. (49)  Hobbes  was  followed  by  Mandeville, 
Swift  and  Chesterfield,  in  England  ;  and  by  Helve- 
tius  and  Rochefoucault  and  Rousseau  in  France.  (50) 

The  Utilitarians  hold  that  all  mankind  are  govern- 
ed by  a  regard  for  self — which  regard  for  self,  they 
do  not  like  to  call,  as  their  opponents  do,  selfishness, 
because  that  word  conveys  a  reproach,  but  a  self- 
re<rarding-interest. 

SWIFT  in  his  detached  thoughts  observes,  that 
there  are  some  whose  self-love  inclines  them  to  please 
others,  and  some  whose  self-love  inclines  them  to  please 
themselves;  the  first  he  designates  as  the  virtuous,  and 
the  second  as  the  vicious. 

(49)  Blackstone  says  the  same  thing,  but  he  does  not  mean  what  he  says, 
where  he  speaks  of  pursuing  criminals  into  their  castles  or  houses;  or  rather — 
he  means  what  he  says,  not  for  a  general  law,  but  for  a  law  in  that  particular 
case. 

^50)  In  his  «  Maxims'  and  '  Falsity  of  Human  Virtue.' 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  129 

ROUSSEAU  saw  the  difficulty  of  the  egotistical 
creed,  and  to  avoid  it,  divided  self-Jove  into  two  or- 
ders, a  higher  and  a  lower,  a  sensual  and  a  spiritual ; 
and  laboured  to  convince  us  that  his  higher  order  of 
self-interest  was  compatible  with  virtue,  the  lower 
not. 

Here  we  have  the  beautiful  doctrine  trying  to  work 
itself  up  to  the  light.  Nothing  however  was  made 
of  it,  till  Mr.  Bentham  save  it  power  and  plausibility, 
and  applied  it,  by  the  help  of  a  perfect  law,  to  all  the 
business  of  life. 

OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  had  his  notions  of  the  rule; 
and  as  they  happen  to  be  like  those  of  many  a  sensi- 
ble head,  they  are  worth  referring  to  here. 

In  a  part  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield — I  forget  where 
now,  as  I  have  not  read  the  book  for  many  years, 
though  I  have  the  most  exalted  opinion  of  it  as  a  sto- 
ry, the  kind-hearted  author  goes  into  an  argument  to 
show  that  evil  may  not  be  done  for  the  sake  of  good 
to  follow.  And  the  reason  he  gives  is  this — that  be- 
tween the  evil  done  by  you  and  the  good  that  follows, 
even  if  it  should  follow,  there  must  be  an  interval: 
that  you  may  be  cut  off,  and  called  up  to  your  final 
account,  during  that  interval:  and  that  therefore  you 
must  suffer  for  the  evil  you  did,  without  having  ad- 
vantage from  the  good  you  hoped.  Now  all  this, 
though  very  like  the  reasoning  of  Oliver  Goldsmith 
in  general,  I  take  to  be  such  as  would  not  satisfy  any 
body  now — save  perhaps  here  and  there  a  novel-rea- 
der. Why  did  he  not  perceive,  that  if  a  man  be  judg- 
ed at  all  hereafter,  he  must  be  judged  by  his  motives, 
and  by  them  alone ;  or  more  carefully  speaking,  by 
the  purposes  of  his  heart?  And  if  so,  what  would 
he  have  to  fear,  who  should  be  able  to  say  to  the 
judge  of  the  quick  and  the  dead — Lo!  I  appeal  to 
thee — Our  Father! — Thou  knowest  that  I  meant  good 
and  not  evil,  when  I  did  this  thing. 

KANT,  the  great  German  Philosopher,  would  not 
17 


130  ON  UTILITY. 

allow  a  man  to  tell  a  falsehood  even  to  save  a  friend 
from  death,  by  the  hand  of  a  ruffian  or  a  maniac. 
He  would  not  allow  you  'to  do  evil  that  good  might 
come,  or  that  good  and  evil  were  only  good  and 
evil  with  reference  to  their  consequences.'  And 
here  laying  aside  the  authority  of  Dr.  Johnson,  it 
would  not  be  difficult  for  one  who  professed  to  be 
governed  by  the  principle  of  utility,  to  decide  against 
the  great  German,  without  wavering  or  misgiving. 
Where  would  be  the  mischief  to  the  moral-sense  of 
the  community,  were  it  published  to  the  world  that 
Kant  or  another  had  told  an  untruth  to  stop  a  ruffian 
or  a  maniac  on  his  wray  to  butchery?  Would  others 
feel  themselves  privileged  on  his  authority,  to  utter 
untruth,  not  for  the  advantage,  but  for  the  injury  of  a 
fellow-creature?  In  the  case  supposed,  a  great  im- 
mediate evil  is  prevented.  The  consequent  mischief 
is,  if  there  be  any,  but  small  and  remote.  If  other- 
wise, or  even  if  it  appear  so,  one  would  be  justified 
in  coming  to  a  different  conclusion. 

But  JACOBI,  another  German  metaphysician,  denies 
the  existence  of  any  fixed  or  definite  rule,  by  which 
the  interpreter  of  God  in  the  heart  of  man  is  bound — 
the  moral  sense — for  both  he  and  Kant,  like  the 

Friends,  allow  an  innate  moral  sense — something  not 

.  ~ 

the  growth  of  education,  nor  subject  either  to  be  sti- 
fled or  produced  by  circumstances.  Jacobi  would 
leave  the  conscience  at  full  liberty  to  decide  in  every 
case — that  being  what  he  considers  the  voice  of  God 
in  the  heart.  Now,  so  far,  without  stopping  to  show 
whether  what  is  called  conscience  is  or  is  not  the 
growth  of  education  ;  for  the  conscience  of  a  Jew 
and  a  Christian,  of  a  Hindoo  and  a  Turk,  are  always 
according  to  the  faith  in  which  they  were  brought  up, 
the  Utilitarian  would  agree  with  Jacobi.  Let  your 
conscience,  or  in  other  words,  your  judgment,  judge 
in  every  case.  Being  satisfied  that  you  are  going  to 
produce  more  good  than  evil,  by  a  given  step — take 
it — by  a  given  act,  do  it.  If  you  mistake,  the  fault 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  131 

is  not  yours — you  are  safe,  so  long  as  you  are  honest. 
But,  says  MADAME  DE  STAEL,  speaking  of  this  very 
philosopher,  and  of  this  very  subject — He  is  so  well 
guided  by  his  own  feelings,  that  he  may  not  have  suf- 
ficiently reflected  on  the  consequences  of  such  a  rule 
of  morality  to  the  mass  of  mankind.  For  what  could 
we  say  to  those,  who  are  going  aside  from  the  path 
of  duty,  and  who  should  pretend  that  they  were  but 
yielding  to  the  impulses  of  conscience?  Undoubted- 
ly it  would  be  seen  that  they  were  hypocrites  in  what 
they  said;  but  they  have  been  helped  to  an  argument, 
which  may  seem  to  justify  whatever  they  do;  and  it 
is  a  good  deal  for  men  to  have  a  few  phrases  ready  to 
urge  in  favour  of  their  deeds.  They  make  use  of 
them  at  first  only  to  deceive  others;  but  they  finish 
by  deceiving  themselves.'  This  is  very  well  said,  but 
what  does  it  amount  to?  Only  to  this,  that  by  urg- 
ing Utility  as  the  standard  of  morals,  you  urge  that 
which  is  capable  of  abuse — that  which  a.  hypocrite 
may  avail  himself  of;  that  which  may  help  a  wicked 
man  to  a  plausible  word  or  two  in  defence  of  bad 
conduct.  But  after  all,  what  do  we  care  for  plausi- 
ble words  in  the  mouth  of  a  hypocrite  or  knave? 
He  may  urge  the  finest  and  boldest  of  arguments — 
he  may  reason  like  a  god — but  there  stands  the  fact, 
there  goes  the  judgment  of  his  fellow — he  cannot  al- 
ter the  one,  nor  stop  the  other.  Few  believe  a  bad 
man  to  be  sincere ;  and  they  who  do,  are  rather  in- 
clined to  pity  than  to  copy  him. 

Few  are  they  that  ever  believe  anybody  to  be  sin- 
cere who,  having  done  what  they  consider  a  bad  ac- 
tion, declares  that  he  did  it  with  a  good  motive — with 
a  view  to  some  high  purpose.  If  you  are  doubtful  of 
this  truth,  call  to  mind  a  case,  if  you  can,  where  on 
being  satisfied  that  a  neighbour  had  perpetrated  any 
unworthy  act,  you  have  acquitted  him  immediately  on 
the  strength  of  his  tried  virtue.  How  little  danger 
therefore  in  the  pretences  of  a  bad  man!  Take  a 


132  ON   UTILITY. 

very  decided  case.     Not  many  years  ago,  Purinton 
murdered  his  whole  family — but  one  of  a  large  house- 
hold  survived    to  narrate   the  awful  circumstances. 
Till  that  event,  Purinton  bore  the  best  of  characters. 
He  was  of  an  amiable  temper,  and  brimful  of  reli- 
gious hope.     He  had  been  a  good  father  and  a  good 
husband.     Yet  when  he  hewed  his  whole  family  to 
pieces  with  an   axe,  they  who  had   known  him  for 
years,  were  doubtful  of  his  sincerity.     He  was  dead, 
he  had  offered  up  his  own  life  to  prove  his  sincerity — 
he  had  died  with  his  beloved  children — and  yet  how 
few  were  they  that  believed  him  to  have  put  them  to 
death  from  the  best  and  holiest  of  motives!     And  of 
those  few  that  did  believe  what  in  truth  there  can  be 
no  doubt  of — namely — that  he  strove  to  obey,  not  to 
disobey  what  he  mistook  for  the  promptings  of  Divi- 
nity, did  any  one  ever  believe  that  Purinton  was  right? 
No — but  every  body  looked  upon  him  as  a  poor  be- 
wildered wretch,  who  had  offered  himself  up  in  sacri- 
fice to  the  unknown  God,  under  a  fearful  mistake — 
a  sort  of  hallucination  like  that  described  in  one  of 
Brown's  novels,  where  a  father  destroys  his  wife,  and 
I  believe  a   family  in   the   same  way,  under  an  idea 
that  he  has  been  commanded  to  do  so,  even  as  Jacob 
was,  to  offer  up  Isaac  to  the  God  of  the  Hebrews. 
Of  what  are  we  to  be  afraid  then  ?  of  hypocritical 
pretension — of  the  man  who  lives  and  flourishes  after 
the  violation  of  that  law  which  others  are  swayed  by; 
while  we  are  not  to  be  convinced,  though  one  should 
lay  himself  down  in  his  grave,  red  with  the  blood  of 
his  little  ones,  for  proof  that  he  has  conscientiously 
applied  the  great  maxim  of  Utility  ?     I  say  no — and 
I  say  therefore,  that  Mad.  de  Stael  has  gone  wide 
of  the   mark    in   the    little   she    has    urged    against 
Jacobi. 

But,  leaving  Mad.  de  Stael,  a  writer  who  could  not 
reason,  let  us  go  to  another — one  who  was  always 
reasoning  or  pretending  to  reason,  even  \vhile  he  ut- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  133 

tered  a  joke.  (51)  I  allude  to  the  Rev.  MR.  COL- 
TON — the  author  of  Lacon.  At  present  I  will  con- 
cede to  him  the  high  place  that  appears  to  be  gene- 
rally awarded  to  the  sententious  and  watchful,  and 
vigorous  and  keen.  They  who  are  able  to  say  much 
in  few  words,  are  very  apt  to  pass  for  more  than 
they  are  worth — and  he  may  be  like  others;  but  I 
shall  not  stop  now  to  examine  the  foundation  of  his 
work;  it  is  enough  that  in  his  two  volumes  of  max- 
ims, he  has  thought  proper  on  three  several  occasions, 
to  allude  to  the  doctrines  of  Utility  with  a  sneer,  and 
that  in  two  out  of  the  three,  he  has  actually  entered 
into  a  serious  argument  to  prove  that  to  be  absurd — 
about  which  he  knew  just  nothing  at  all. 

In  maxim  cccxxviii — after  saying  a  good  deal  (for 
him)  about  Socrates,  and  selfishness,  and  the  present 
state  of  society,  he  says,  with  what  in  him  was  al- 
most a  spirit  of  prophecy,  he  being  ignorant  at  the 
time,  as  I  shall  show  hereafter,  that  the  very  thing 
which  he  foretold  and  foresaw,  was  actually  in  exist- 
ence while  he  was  writing  the  prediction — '  But  1 
foresee  the  period  when  some  new  and  parent  idea  in 
morals,  the  matrix  of  a  better  order  of  things  shall  re- 
concile us  more  completely  to  God,  to  nature,  and  to  our- 
selves.'' Now  this,  the  Utilitarian  believes  to  be  the 
very  definition  of  the  great  principle  of  Utility,  and 
if  the  Rev.  Mr.  Colton  had  been  well  acquainted 
with  what  he  afterwards  attempted  to  ridicule,  he 
would  never  have  written  that  passage;  or  having 
written  it,  he  would  have  referred  to  it  either  as  a 
description,  or  a  prophecy,  relating  to  the  greatest- 
happiness-principle,  or  in  other  words — to  The  greatest 
happiness  of  the  greatest  number. 

But  this  odd  prediction  appeared  in  the  first  vol- 
ume of  the  reverend  author's  maxims.  After  a  while, 
another  volume  appeared;  and  he,  wishing  to  have 

(51)  Some  authors,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  be  cutting  and  dry,  give  us  only 
that  which  is  cut  and  dried.  Lacon,  xxxiv. 


134  ON   UTILITY. 

the  credit  of  a  discovery  which  he  had  not  made,  or 
wishing  to  fulfil  his  own  prophecy,  undertook  to  pro- 
vide the  very  law  he  had  spoken  of,  the  new  and  pa- 
rent idea  in  morals — the  '  matrix'  of  truth.  But  how 
did  he  do  it  ?  Here  are  his  words  : 

'  There  are  two  principles,  however,  of  established 
acceptance  in  morals  ;  first,  that  self-interest  is  the 
main-spring  of  all  our  actions,  and  secondly,  that  Uti- 
lity is  the  test  of  their  value.  Now  there  are  some 
cases  where  these  maxims  are  not  tenable,  because 
they  are  not  true  ;  for  some  of  the  noblest  energies  of 
gratitude,  of  affection,  of  courage,  and  of  benevolence, 
are  not  resolvable  into  the  first.  If  it  be  said  indeed, 
that  these  estimable  qualities  may,  after  all,  be  traced 
to  self-interest,  because  all  the  duties  that  flow  from 
them  are  a  source  of  the  highest  gratification  to  those 
that  perform  them,  this  I  presume  savours  rather  too 
much  of  an  identical  proposition,  and  is  only  a  round- 
about mode  of  informing  us  that  virtuous  men  will  act 
virtuously.  Take  care  of  number  one,  says  the  world- 
ling, and  the  Christian  says  so  too  ;  for  he  has  taken 
the  best  care  of  number  one,  who  takes  care  that 
number  one  shall  go  to  heaven ;  that  blessed  place  is 
full  of  those  same  selfish  beings  who,  by  having  con- 
stantly done  good  to  others,  have  as  constantly  grati- 
fied themselves.  I  humbly  conceive,  therefore,  that 
it  is  much  nearer  the  truth  to  say  that  all  men  have 
an  interest  in  being  good,  than  that  all  men  are  good 
from  interest.  As  to  the  standard  of  Utility,  this  is 
a  mode  of  examining  human  actions,  that  looks  too 
much  to  the  event,  for  there  are  occasions  where  a 
man  may  effect  the  greatest  general  good,  by  the 
smallest  individual  sacrifice  ;  and  there  are  others 
where  he  may  make  the  greatest  individual  sacrifice, 
and  yet  produce  but  little  general  good.  If  indeed 
the  moral  philosopher  is  determined  to  do  all  his 
work  with  the  smallest  possible  quantity  of  tools, 
and  would  wish  to  cope  with  the  natural  philosopher, 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  135 

who  has  explained  such  wonders,  from  the  two  sim- 
ple causes  of  impulse  and  of  gravity,  in  this  case  he 
must  look  out  for  maxims  as  universal  as  those  occa- 
sions to  which  he  would  apply  them.  Perhaps  he 
might  begin  by  affirming  with  me  that — men  are  the 
same,  and  this  will  naturally  lead  him  to  another  con- 
clusion, that  if  men  are  the  same,  they  can  have  but 
one  common  principle  of  action,  The  attainment  of 
apparent  good ;  those  two  simple  truisms  contain 
the  whole  of  my  philosophy,  and  as  they  have  not 
been  worn  out  in  the  performance  of  one  undertak- 
ing, I  trust  they  will  not  fail  me  in  the  execution  of 
another.' 

Let  us  now  look  a  little  into  our  author's  reason- 
ing. If  you  take  the  whole  passage  together,  it 
would  appear  to  be  a  decided  attack  upon  the  strong- 
holds of  the  Utilitarian  faith.  But,  if  you  examine 
it  piece-meal,  and  receive  what  he  offers  for  a  sub- 
stitute as  well  as  for  a  discovery,  you  find  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Colton  himself,  to  be  a  Utilitarian,  though  pro- 
bably without  either  knowing  it  or  suspecting  it. 
And  so  with  a  multitude  more. 

In  the  first  place,  the  Utilitarian  says  that  selfish- 
ness— or  in  the  language  of  Bentham,  who  being 
aware  of  the  mischief  done  every  day,  and  at  every 
breath  by  the  word  selfishness,  thought  proper  to  call 
a  proper  selfishness,  that  which  looks  to  the  future, 
a  self-regarding  interest — is  the  main-spring  of  all  our 
actions. 

Now  this  the  Rev.  Mr.  Colton  flatly  denies.  He 
says  '  there  are  some  cases  where  this  maxim  is  not 
tenable,  because  not  true;'  for  that  'some  of  the  noblest 
energies  of  gratitude,  of  affection,  of  courage,  and  of 
benevolence,  are  not  resolvable  into  it.'  Having  said 
this,  which  for  a  common  author,  who  disdains  to 
reason,  would  be  enough  to  say,  he  proceeds  to  the 
proof.  And  here  we  have  it — '  If  it  be  said  indeed 
that  these  amiable  qualities  may  after  all  be  traced  to 


136  ON   UTILITY. 

self-interest,  because  all  the  duties  that  flow  from  them 
are  a  source  of  the  highest  gratification  to  those  that 
perform  them,  this  I  presume,  savours  too  much  of 
an  identical  proposition,  and  is  only  a  round-about 
mode  of  informing  us  that  virtuous  men  act  virtuous- 
ly. Take  care  of  number  one  says  the  worlding,  and 
the  Christian  says  so  too  ;  for  he  has  taken  the  best 
care  of  number  one,  who  takes  care  that  number  one 
shall  go  to  heaven;  that  blessed  place  is  full  of  those 
same  selfish  beings,  who  by  having  constantly  done  good 
to  others,  have  as  constantly  gratified  themselves?  Now 
strange  as  it  may  appear,  these  very  passages  con- 
tain the  whole  pith  and  marrow  of  the  Utilitarian's 
faith.  They  are  just  exactly  what  he  teaches  and 
what  he  believes.  He  believes  that  heaven  is  full 
of  these  selfish  beings ;  and  that  they  only  are  happy, 
they  only  wise,  who  are  selfish  on  earth  in  the  same 
way.  But  is  there  no  distinction  to  be  supposed  be- 
tween the  selfishness  that  sacrifices  the  future  to  the 
present,  and  that  which  sacrifices  the  present  to  the 
future  ?  None  to  be  made  between  that  which  leads 
one  wretched  creature  to  destroy  another  for  the  gra- 
tification of  a  brief  and  base  appetite,  whether  of  the 
soul  or  the  body ;  and  that  which  leads  another  to 
offer  himself  up,  in  sacrifice  for  the  good  of  others,  of 
a  wife  or  a  child,  of  his  country  or  of  the  world  ? 
Both  are  influenced  by  the  very  same  motive — both 
seek  their  own  happiness — both  enjoy  the  reward 
they  look  for,  though  that  of  one  may  be  the  antici- 
pation of  what  others  will  say  of  him  hereafter.  Are 
we  to  have  it  called  a  dispute  about  words  then,  if 
we  desire  to  have  all  selfishness  denominated,  not 
selfishness,  for  that  word  has  been  so  long  applied  in 
an  ill  sense,  that  it  cannot  now  be  used  in  a  good  one, 
but  a  self-regarding  interest  ?  Are  we  to  be  told  that 
we  do  not  know  what  we  teach,  if  we  say  that  every 
man  is  to  be  judged  by  the  manner  in  which  his  self- 
regarding  interest  may  show  itself?  or  that  when  it 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  137 

is  long-sighted  and  provident,  regarding  the  greatest 
happiness  of  the  greatest  number,  it  is  virtue  ;  when 
short-sighted,  and  regardless  of  the  greatest  happi- 
ness of  the  greatest  number — either  vice  or  weak- 
ness ?  But  the  Rev.  Mr.  Colton  would  have  you  be- 
lieve that  we  assert  an  identical  proposition ;  that 
when  we  say  the  virtuous  man  acts  in  a  certain  way, 
or  the  wise  man  in  a  certain  way;  we  do  but  assert 
that  the  virtuous  man  acts  virtuously,  and  the  wise 
man  wisely.  If  so,  then  every  syllogism  is  an 
identical  proposition  ;  every  protracted  argument 
another. 

Young  logicians,  who  are  just  beginning  to  learn 
the  names  of  their  tools,  are  always  meeting  with  ad- 
versaries who  beg  the  question,  who  argue  in  a  circle, 
or  who  delight  in  identical  propositions.  To  such,  the 
best  tri-angled  syllogism  that  ever  was  framed,  would 
appear  a  circle. 

But  as  the  Rev.  Mr.  C.  has  a  high  character  in  the 
commonwealth  of  literature,  and  as  they  who  read 
such  authors  are  very  apt  to  take  what  they  say  for 
granted,  let  us  try  the  truth  of  the  charge  here  made 
against  the  teachers  of  Utility.  Let  us  see  if  they 
have  been  so  absurd  as  to  assert  an  identical  proposi- 
tion ;  or  so  childish,  as  to  say  that  virtuous  men  act 
virtuously.  What  is  their  doctrine  ? — they  teach  that 
all  men  are  governed  by  the  fear  of  evil,  or  the  hope 
of  good;  that  the  weak  and  ignorant  however,  being 
prone  to  judge  precipitately,  are  led  into  many  mis- 
takes in  their  estimate  of  both — and  particularly  with 
regard  to  the  present  and  future  value  of  both ;  that 
as  they  become  wiser  and  better,  they  learn  to  be 
more  and  more  long-sighted  in  their  calculations,  to 
deal  with  more  liberality,  to  make  better  bargains  ; 
in  a  word  to  believe  that  their  own  happiness  is  best 
promoted  by  promoting  the  greatest  happiness  of  the 
greatest  number.  This  is  the  substance  of  what  they 

18 


138  ON   UTILITY. 

say;  and  this  the  Rev.  Mr.  C.  would  have  it,  is  an 
identical  proposition. 

To  show  by  a  familiar  example  what  is  understood 
by  a  Utilitarian,  who  speaks  of  that  self-regarding  in- 
terest alluded  to  above,  let  us  imagine  two  men  seated 
at  the  same  table  with  a  favourite  bird  between  them. 
Let  us  further  suppose  that  each  has  fixed  upon  the 
same  part,  for  his  own  share.  Now,  if  these  two 
men  are  short-sighted  '  worldlings?  rude,  coarse,  un- 
educated men,  there  would  most  likely  be  a  struggle 
between  them  for  the  knife.  Each  would  be  anxious 
to  carve,  that  he  might  help  himself  first,  and  secure 
the  part  he  liked.  But,  on  the  contrary,  if  these  two 
men  were  a  little  better  educated,  a  little  longer  sight- 
ed, the  strife  would  be,  not  who  should  get  the  knife, 
but  who  should  get  rid  of  it — for  each  would  expect 
the  favourite  piece  to  be  offered  him  by  the  carver.  You 
see  plainly  now,  that  he  who  has  got  forward  but  a 
step  or  two  in  the  mystery  of  Utilitarianism,  has  al- 
ready arrived  at  his  object — the  very  same  object  he  had 
in  view  before,  with  less  trouble,  and  with  less  heart- 
burning. But  to  carry  this  a  step  further — if  he  be 
long-sighted  enough  to  look  at  to-morrow,  instead  of 
to-day,  when  the  favourite  part  is  offered  him,  he 
will  either  propose  to  divide  it,  or  he  will  waive  his 
share  entirely.  The  better  educated  he  is,  and  the 
further  he  advances  in  the  new  faith,  the  more  easy 
it  will  be  for  him  to  gratify  himself  without  interfering 
with  the  happiness  of  others ;  nay,  by  promoting  the 
happiness  of  others. 

All  our  chief  pleasures  are  social — very  few  are  so- 
litary. We  cannot  bear  to  live  alone — we  neither 
eat  nor  drink  alone — we  are  unwilling  even  to  pray 
alone,  or  to  sleep  alone — so  much  and  so  delightfully 
are  we  dependent  upon  each  other  for  happiness. 
After  all  therefore,  a  self- regarding  interest  is  but  an- 
other name  for  a  social-regarding  interest,  concentra- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION. 

ted  and  made  more  effectual  for  the  good  of  the  hu- 
man race. 

But  Mr.  Colton  proceeds  to  judge  and  re-judge  the 
other  maxim,  that  *  Utility  is  the  test  of  value.'  And 
here  too,  just  as  he  did  with  selfishness,  he  begins 
with  denying  what  he  ends  with  admitting.  Let  the 
reader  refer  to  that  part  of  the  passage  quoted,  be- 
ginning with  'As  to  the  standard  of  utility,'  and  then 
proceed  to  the  paragraph,  where  the  author,  pretend- 
ing to  a  discovery  of  the  very  matrix  he  had  alluded 
to  years  before — a  sort  of  philosopher's  stone,  or 
elixir  of  life,  in  morality — says  first,  that  J\len  are  the 
same — being  just  what  the  Utilitarians  say ;  and  se- 
condly, that  '  If  men  are  the  same,  they  can  have  but 
one  common  principle  of  action,  the  attainment  of  ap- 
parent good? — which  is  also  just  what  the  Utilitarians 
say  ;  it  is  but  another  name  for  their  self-regarding  in- 
terest— it  is  in  fact  the  very  language  of  Bentham. 
Who  would  believe  it?  Who  would  believe  that  in 
the  same  breath,  a  logician  like  the  reverend  Mr.  C. 
would  gainsay  and  admit,  deny  and  acknowledge  the 
very  same  thing?  But  so  it  is,  and  so  it  ever  will  be 
where  men  are  weak  enough,  or  presumptuous  enough 
to  talk  about  what  they  are  ignorant  of.. 

HUME.  But  Mr.  Hume,  on  the  other  hand,  says 
Lacon,  '  seems  inclined  to  make  Utility  the  test  of 
virtue ;  and  this  doctrine  he  has  urged  so  speciously 
as  to  draw  after  him  a  third  part  of  the  Host  of 
Heaven.  Paley  has  been  in  some  degree  seduced, 
but  Paley's  authority  is  on  the  decline.' 

PALEY.  We  must  not  regard  what  Mr.  Colton  says 
of  Paley — Mr.  Colton  had  never  read  Paley.  It  is 
quite  impossible  that  a  man  should  be  so  silly  as  to  say 
what  Mr.  Colton  says  in  the  following  passages  marked 
in  italics,  if  he  had  read  Paley,  or  indeed  any  body 
else  on  the  subject  of  Utility.  Let  the  reader  judge 
for  himself  by  referring  to  the  chapter  from  Paley, 
page  123. 


140  ON  UTILITY. 

But  continues  Mr.  C.  *  If  one  were  disposed  to 
banter  such  a  doctrine,  by  pursuing  up  its  conclusions 
to  the  absurdities  to  which  they  would  lead  us,  one 
would  say  that  if  a  building  were  on  fire,,  a  philosopher 
ought  to  be  saved  in  preference  to  a  fool,  (certainly)  and 
a  steam-engine,  or  a  loom,  in  preference  to  either  ;  no  pa- 
rent ought  to  have  any  ejection  or  tenderness  for  a  child 
that  was  dying  of  a  disorder  pronounced  to  be  incurable  ; 
and  no  child  ought  to  take  any  trouble  for  a  parent  that 
was  in  a  state  of  dotage.  If  we  met  with  a  beggar  with 
one  leg,  we  'ought  to  give  him  nothing,  but  reserve  a 
double  alms  for  a  beggar  who  had  two,  as  being  the 
most  useful  animate 

The  most  of  which  is  no  better  than  sheer  nonsense : 
And  so  utterly  untrue,  that  no  Utilitarian  that  ever 
breathed,  ever  held  such  a  doctrine.  The  reader 
will  find  a  short  chapter  on  the  subject,  in  the  sample 
herewith  furnished  of  Dumont's  Bentham.  Like  that 
chapter  in  Paley,  it  is  worth  a  score  of  idle  essays  on 
Utility,  after  the  reader  has  been  prepared  for  it. 

However,  the  Rev.  Mr.  C.  is  not  alone.  The  most 
laughable  ideas  have  got  abroad  concerning  the  ob- 
ject, and  views,  the  doctrines  and  the  faith  of  the 
sect ;  as  if  there  were  any  mystery  in  the  matter. 

A  late  EDINBURGH  REVIEW,  by  way  of  criticising 
a  volume  of  poetry,  has  attacked  the  Utilitarians, 
pretty  much  as  it  did  the  Phrenologists  not  long  ago; 
talking  itself  out  of  breath  about  a  subject,  concern- 
ing which  it  was  so  ridiculously  ignorant,  that  they 
who  knew  any  thing  of  it,  could  not  read  a  page  of 
Mr.  Jeffrey's  essay  without  laughing.  And  the  edi- 
tor of  the  ALBION,  at  New- York,  has  thought  proper 
to  say  what  follows  of  the  said  attack, — while  enu- 
merating the  articles  in  the  Edinburgh. 

*  Cunningham' 's  Songs,  which  follows,  is  chiefly  to 
be  noticed  for  its  very  able  defence  of  poetry  against 
the  levelling  and  barbarous  charges  of  the  Utilitarians. 
This  is  a  class,  we  are  sorry  to  say.  fast  rising  into  no- 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  141 

tice  in  England ;  they  profess  to  deal  only  with  the 
useful,  discarding  all  the  more  polished  graces  of  the  in- 
tellect as  so  much  worthless  lumber;  and  cling  to  the 
dryest  and  tritest  matters  of  fact,  from  what  they  term 
their  ardent  love  of  truth.  They  arc,  in  fact,  the  Puri- 
tans of  literature,  and  richly  merit  the  reprehension 
they  here  meet  with  from  the  Reviewer.' 

In  a  later  number  (XCVIL),  we  have  another  at- 
tack in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  on  UTILITARIANISM 
and  UTILITARIANS,  though  not  so  much  on  either,  as 
on  Mr.  John  Mill,  whom  it  mistakes  for  the  father 
James  Mill,  the  writer  of  the  article  on  Government 
in  the  ENCYCLOPEDIA  BRITANNICA.  Mr.  John  Mill, 
it  should  be  observed,  is  the  editor  of  the  work  on 
Evidence,  in  five  large  octavos,  by  Mr.  Bentham,  and 
reviewed  in  a  bold,  generous  style  by  the  Edinburgh 
Review,  No.  XCVI. ;  to  which  a  reply,  perhaps  from 
the  editor  himself,  appeared  in  the  Westminster. 
Between  these  two  Quarterlies,  a  severe  and  almost 
uninterrupted  war  has  been  kept  up,  ever  since  the 
Westminster  appeared ;  the  three  or  four  first  num- 
bers of  which  were  largely  occupied  with  severe  and 
extraordinary  papers  on  the  Edinburgh,  chiefly  by  John 
Mill,  and  James  Mill  the  father.  It  is  undoubtedly 
an  awkward  blunder-for  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  who 
is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  cleverest  Reviewers  of  the 
age ;  but  such  is  probably  the  fact.  He  has  mistaken 
James  Mill  the  father,  author  of  British-India,  and 
of  the  papers  in  the  Supplement  to  the  Encyclopedia 
Britannica,  for  the  author  of  the  attacks  on  the  Ed- 
inburgh Review, — John  Mill  the  son,  a  youth  of  seven- 
teen perhaps  at  the  time  the  Essay  on  Government 
here  alluded  to  was  written  by  the  father,  and  hardly 
twenty  now.  (52) 

In  speaking  of   this  very  article,  the  Albion,   of 

(52)  To  avoid  repetition,  the  reader  may  be  referred  to  note  (19),  page 
45-6. 


142  ON   UTILITY. 

New- York,  calls  it  *  a  severe  and  biting  attack  on  the 
Utilitarians,  founded  on  the  essay  of  Mr.  John  Mill, 
the  disciple  of  Jeremy  Bentham,  as  published  in  the 
Supplement  to  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  and 
says,  moreover,  by  way  of  clearing  the  matter  up  to 
the  people  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  '  The  Utili- 
tarians hold  that  sentiment  and  eloquence  serve  only  to 
impede  the  search  after  truth,  and  they  therefore  affect 
a  plain,  negligent  and^imgure  style.  They  must  reason 
a  priori  upon  every  thing^  and  nothing  is  true  with 
them  that  is  not  submitted  to  this  ordeal.' 

The  Edinburgh  Review  has  two  excellent  rea- 
sons for  dealing  after  this  fashion  with  the  Utilitari- 
ans. I.  Within  about  three  years,  it  has  reviewed 
several  works  of  Mr.  Bentham,  and  always  in  a 
style  far  worthier  of  him  and  of  the  age,  than  was 
the  habit  of  other  journals.  Perhaps  the  change  of 
political  spirit  visible  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  (No. 
XCVI.)  may  be  owing  to  the  desire  of  atonement. 
If  so,  what  could  be  more  natural  than  to  attack  the 
Utilitarian  faith  by  a  side-wind.  It  were  but  a  vulgar 
backing  out,  to  unsay  what  it  had  so  eloquently  and 
repeatedly  said  of  the  founder  of  that  sect,  Jeremy 
Bentham.  But  what  should  hinder  it  from  attack- 
ing it  through  a  foremost  disciple  and  promulgator.  II. 
Ever  since  the  establishment  of  the  Westminster  Re- 
view there  has  been  a  very  bitter  war  raging  between 
it  and  the  Edinburgh  Review.  The  first  arrow  was 
levelled  by  the  Westminster.  It  is  not  wonderful 
therefore  that  the  Edinburgh,  on  being  told  that  its 
adversary  was  a  boy  of  eighteen,  and  supposing  the 
same  boy  to  be  the  author  of  certain  Essays  on  Go- 
vernment, in  the  supplement  to  the  Encyclopedia  Bri- 
tannica,— yet  lying  within  spear's-length  of  the  Re- 
viewer, as  well  as  of  sundry  vehement  and  clever  at- 
tacks on  the  Edinburgh  Review,  should  take  the  field 
in  earnest,  the  moment  Mill  could  be  distinguished 
from  Bentham,  in  a  work  bearing  the  name  of  both. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  143 

But  read  the  Westminster  Review  for  yourself; 
take  no  man's  word  for  what  is  there.  Look  into  it 
for  yourself,  at  any  rate,  and  there  you  will  find  a 
sample  of  the  reform  which  is  hoped  for  ;  and  not  only 
hoped  for,  but  achieved  by  a  few  of  the  Utilitarians 
of  England  —  see  if  that  encourages  immorality.  See 
if  it  is  in  battle-array  against  all  the  beauties  and 
graces,  all  the  affections  and  sympathies  of  the  human 
heart.  You  will  say  no  —  and  yet,  the  Westminster 
Review  goes  much  further  than  the  great  body  of 
those  who  have  adopted  the  Utilitarian  creed.  They 
say  —  give  us  poetry,  music,  all  the  fine  arts,  all  the 
higher  and  nobler  feelings,  the  poetry  of  the  stage,  of 
trick,  and  art,  and  oratory  —  for  all  have  their  use. 
But  do  not  prefer  them  to  what  is  more  useful,  truth, 
wisdom,  courage,  probity  —  The  greatest  happiness  of  the 
greatest  number. 

O 

The  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  XCVII.  is  but  ano- 
ther sharn  attack  on  Utility,  under  the  title  of  Utili- 
tarian Logic  and  Politics,  to  cover  a  real  attack  on 
the  supposed  author  of  the  assault  in  the  Westmin- 
ster, Mill  —  it  being  in  fact  a  review  of  Mill's  Essays 
in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica. 

The  review  is  clever  and  powerful  throughout, 
very  severe  throughout,  and  sometimes  very  just,  even 
where  most  severe.  But  still  it  abounds  in  error, 
misrepresentation  and  sophistry,  which  any  Utilita- 
rian, or  any  body  acquainted  with  the  doctrines  of 
Utility  would  instantly  perceive,  but  which  could  not 
be  exposed  here,  without  employing  more  time  and 
paper  than  we  have  to  spare. 

One  example  may  suffice  to  give  the  reader  an 
idea  of  the  whole  review.  In  page  181,  the  writer 
says  : 

'  But  we  are  rather  inclined  to  think  that  it  would, 
the  interest  of  th  e_jmaj 


er   the   rich.     If  so,   the    Utilitarians  will   say, 
that  the  rich  ought  to  be  plundered.     We  lieny  the 


144  ON   UTILITY. 

inference.  For,  in  the  first  place,  if  the  object  of 
government  be  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number,  the  intensity  of  the  suffering  which  a  mea- 
sure inflicts  must  be  taken  into  consideration,  as  well 
as  the  number  of  the  sufferers.' 

Now  on  reading  the  above,  who  would  not  suppose 
that  Mr.  Bentham  and  his  followers  were  of  opinion, 
that  ifh  was  for  the  pecuniary  interest  of  the  poor  to 
plunder  the  rich,  the  rich  ought  to  be  plundered  ?  that 
no  regard  to  consequences,  to  the  intensity,  nor  per- 
haps to  the  duration  or  perpetuity  of  the  suffering  was 
to  be  paid  by  the  followers  of  Utility  ?  Yet  every 
page,  every  paragraph,  every  line  of  the  Utilitarian 
creed  is  to  the  contrary.  There  is  nothing,  not  so 
much  as  a  word,  capable  of  being  tortured  into  such  a 
meaning.  How  such  a  mistake  therefore,  if  it  is  a 
mistake,  could  have  been  made  by  such  a  writer,  is  in- 
conceivable. He  must  have  taken  the  silliest  misre- 
presentation of  the  doctrine  for  truth ;  he  cannot  even 
have  read  Bentham  on  Utility,  nor  even  Paley.  The 
very  ground-work  of  the  whole  scheme,  the  chief  ele- 
ment of  the  calculation  so  insisted  upon  by  Mr.  Bent- 
ham,  is  the  intensity  or  amount  of  suffering,  not  mere- 
ly for  the  present  but  for  the  future — its  extent,  du- 
ration, perpetuity,  &c.  are  all  to  be  weighed.  It  is  in 
fact  the — greatest  happiness  ;  not  merely  what  may  be 
misunderstood,  or  misrepresented — the  greatest  happi- 
ness of  the  greatest  number,  that  we  are  encouraged  to 
pursue  here. 

But  this  is  not  all.  It  was  not  sufficient  for  book- 
makers, editors,  and  reviewers  on  a  large  scale  to  mis- 
represent or  misunderstand  the  objects,  views,  and  faith 
of  the  Utilitarians,  the  essay  and  magazine-writers,  the 
getters-up  of  songs  and  story-books, — the  very  news- 
papers of  the  day,  have  had  a  part  in  the  work.  Parry, 
the  Majcxr,  has  been  mentioned  already;  and  Hazlitt, 
who  undertook  a  sober  investigation  of  the  mind  of 
Jeremy  Bentham. — Good  God  ! — William  Hazlitt  try- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  145 

ing  to  sound  the  depth  of  Jeremy  Bentham's  mind — as 
well  might  he  hope  to  sound  the  Pacific  with  a  chain 
of  flowers,  or  with  the  trinkets  at  the  end  of  a  watch- 
ribbon. — But  so  it  was  ;  he  talked  of  Godwin,  and  he 
talked  of  Paley,  and  he  at  last  concluded  to  conclude, 
that  Bentham  was  '  no  great  things  after  all' — a  mere 
ticketer  of  other  men's  cast-off  ideas.  (53)  And 
then,  passing  by  a  multitude  more,  there  was  the  au- 
thor of  BABYLON  THE  GREAT,  a  writer  whom  I  can- 
not overlook  so  readily — so  shrewd,  so  keen,  so  other- 
wise to  be  depended  on  are  his  remarks  in  general. 
'  I  know  not,'  says  he,  '  why  I  should  conceal  the 
parties  for  whom  THE  CHRONICLE,  at  least  at  one 
time  labored — they  were  Richard  Carlisle,  and  a  soi- 
disant  philosopher  somewhere  westward  of  Temple- 
Bar  ;  the  one  of  whom  labored  (perhaps  he  did  it 
through  terror  of  starvation  which  was  at  least  some 
extenuation  of  his  labour)  to  set  men  altogether  free 
from  the  restraints  of  religion,  and  the  other  labored 
(and  if  he  did  it  without  any  necessity  of  pecuniary 
reward,  that  was  no  extenuation  of  his  labor  (In- 
deed !)  to  introduce  among  the  most  heartless  of  his  fel- 
low-subjects, notions  which  would  have  gone  far  to  sub- 
vert not  only  the  moral  principles \  but  the  rational  feel- 
ings of  a  large  proportion  of  the  poorer  classes.'  A 
grave  charge  that,  a  very  grave  charge ;  but  lucki- 
ly for  Mr.  B.  without  one  word  of  truth  in  it.  Mr. 
Bentham  preached  Utility  ;  and  certain  of  his  follow- 
ers did,  I  acknowledge,  attempt  to  do  what  they 

(53)  The  general  reader  may  be  reminded  here  of  Newton's  controversy 
with  Hooke,  who  would  not  allow  him  to  be  original.  '  Now  is  not  this  very 
fine?'  says  Newton  to  Halley.  '  Mathematicians  that  find  out,  settle  and  do 
all  the  business  must  content  themselves  with  being  nothing  but  dry  calcu- 
lators and  drudges  ;  and  another  that  d&es  nothing  but  pretend  and  grasp  at 
all  things  must  carry  away  all  the  invention  as  well  of  those  that  were  to  fol- 
low him  as  those  that  went  before.' — '  More  than  fifty  years  elapsed,'  says  a 
late  biographer  of  Newton,  «  before  the  great  physical  truth  contained  and 
demonstrated  in  the  Principia,  was,  we  do  not  say,  followed  up  and  de- 
veloped, but  even  understood  by  the  generality  of  learned  men.  So  with 
the  originality  of  Bentham.  So  with  the  moral  truths  taught  in  Morals 
and  Legislation.  See  page  20,  note  (12). 

19 


146  ON   UTILITY. 

narrowly  escaped  the  exposure  they  merited  and  the 
punishment  (hey  would  have  received  at  law  for 
doing.  But  lie  had  no  hand  in  it — he  saw  with 
shame  and  sorrow  the  precipitate  and  foolish  miscon- 
duct of  those,  who  while  they  pretended  to  do  good, 
were  in  reality  sowing  the  whole  neighborhood  with 
mischief. 

I  need  not  be  more  particular  now ;  but  a  passage 
from  the  Odes  on  CASH,  CORN  AND  CATHOLICS  may 
lead  to  a  plausible  conjecture  of  the  truth,  even  by 
those  who  may  not  have  heard  of  the  expedient  sug- 
gested by  Mr.  Francis  Place,  and  published  and  dis- 
tributed in  hand-bills,  by  two  or  three  of  the  youngest 
and  most  zealous  of  the  boy-converts  to  Utility.  It  is 
to  this  I  have  alluded  before  in  page  44,  and  in  page 
118 — where  it  is  said  that  certain  of  their  conduct 
should  be  punishable  at  huv. 

Moore  says — wittily  enough  and  bitterly  enough, 
and  with  remarkable  truth — 

There's  Bentham,  whose  English  is  all  his  own  making, 

Who  thinks  just  as  little  of  settling  a  nation, 
As  he  would  of  smoking  his  pipe  (54) — or  of  taking 

(What  he  himself  calls)  his  post-prandial  vibration.  (55) 

There  are  two  Mr.  Mills  too,  whom  those  that  like  reading 
Through  all  that's  unreadable  call  very  clever; — 

And  whereas  Mill  senior  makes  war  on  good  breeding, 
Mill  junior  makes  war  on  all  breeding  whatever. 

Let  me  add  however,  that  I  would  not  have  this 
young  man  punished  at  law  for  holding  as  Moore 
would  have  us  believe  he  does  ;  but  for  .teaching  to 
the  unmarried,  both  males  and  females,  by  the  circu- 
lation of  papers,  describing  what,  though  a  filthy  ex- 
pedient, may  be  a  useful  one  to  the  poor  that  are 
overburthened  with  a  large  family,  that  they  may  in- 
dulge with  safety  and  propriety  in  any  degree  of  li- 
centiousness consistent  w7ith  health.  It  is  for  this 

(54)  He  never  smokes. 

(55)  The  venerable  Jeremy's-  phraso  for  nn  after-dinner-walk,  says  Moore, 
lint  *rt>  pa<;e  25. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  147 

that  he  and  others  deserve  punishment;  for  such  doc- 
trines, so  taught  now,  would  be  productive  undoubt- 
edly of  ten  thousand  times  more  evil  than  good. 
What  would  be  the  pleasure  of  a  few,  to  the  corrup- 
tion of  the  whole  body  of  society? 

But  enough.  To  Jeremy  Bentham  we  are  indebted 
for  the  establishment  of  the  sect  of  Utilitarians,  and  for 
setting  forth  the  whole  ground-work  of  their  sublime 
and  simple  faith  so  clearly  and  so  energetically,  that 
people  are  converted  every  day  by  merely  reading 
over  his  chapter  on  Utility.  They  who  have  per- 
verted the  doctrine  or  departed  from  it  as  above, 
though  of  the  sect  of  Utilitarians,  are  not  in  justice 
to  be  regarded  as  the  lawful  expounders  of  their 
faith.  Utilitarians  they  may  be  ;  but  in  such  things 
their  doctrine  is  not  the  doctrine  of  the  founder,  nor 
of  a  thousandth  part  of  his  followers. 


148  M.  DUMONT. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH 

OF  M.   DUMONT,  OF  GENEVA. 

M.  DUMONT,  the  editor  of  ten  large  octavo  vo- 
lumes in  French,  selected  from  the  manuscripts  of 
Mr.  Bentham,  was  born  and  educated  at  Geneva. 
He  was  remarkable  at  an  early  age  for  what  is  re- 
membered now  as  an  eloquent  style  ;  and  a  contem- 
porary of  his  youth  ( 1 )  has  been  heard  to  declare, 
that  Dumont  was  remembered  by  him  as  the  sayer  of 
beautiful  and  vague  things.  It  is  known  too  that  he 
either  wrote  some  of  the  discourses  delivered  by  Mi- 
rabeau,  or  furnished  him  with  the  materials.  ( 2 )  He 

(1)  Albert  Gallatin. 

(2)  Same  and  Dr.  Vaughan,  of  Hallowell,  Maine. — All  which  is  abundantly 
confirmed  by  the  acknowledgment  of  M.  J.  C.  L.  de  Sismondi,  in  a  Biographi- 
cal Memoir  of  M.  Dumont,  just  published  at  Paris  in  the  Revue  Encyclopedique. 
I  quote  from  a  translation,  which  appeared  in  the  Boston  Advertiser  of  Feb. 
10th;  and  refer  also  to  the  National  Gazette  of  Jan.  9,  1830,  where  substan- 
tially the  same  thing  is  said.     '  The  fermentation  of  minds  which  was  excited 
by  the  French  revolution,  brought  him  to  Paris  in  the  year  1789.     He  took 
too  lively  an  interest  in  the  progress  of  intelligence  and  the  dignity  of  human 
nature  not  to  wish  to  watch  closely  the  greatest  effort  which  a  nation  has  ever 
made  to  reach  the  most  noble  end.     Already  illustrious  from  his  talents,  bril- 
liant in  his  mind,  he  was  soon  called  to  associate  himself  with  the  men,  who 
were  selected  for  their  strength  and  intelligence  to  direct  the  destinies  of  France, 
and  who  knew  how  to  appreciate  that  of  Dumont.     Mirabeau  seized  by  a  sort 
of  intuition  the  most  important  political  questions,  but  he  was  too  much  dis- 
tracted by  his  passions,  and  revolted  at  labour;  for  this  reason  he  was  often 
seen  to  appropriate  to  himself  studies  which  he  had  not  made,  and  to  lay  his 
friends  under  contributions  for  researches  and  even  for  ideas.     One  day  he  was 
conversing  with  Dumont  in  the  anti-room  of  the  constituent  assembly,  a  pro- 
found remark  escaped  the  latter  on  the  subject  which  was  then  under  debate — 
Mirabeau  was  struck  with  the  idea,  and  springing  to  the  tribune,  '  I  have  said, 
long  since,'  said  he,  and  repeated  word  for  word  what  he  had  just  heard  from 
the  mouth  of  his  friend.     Each  had  so  rich  a  fund  of  his  own,  that  the  plagi- 
arism only  caused  a  laugh.     It  is  asserted  that  the  famous  address  of  the  king, 
proposed  by  Mirabeau,  July  9,  1789,  to  obtain  the  sending  back  of  the  troops, 
was  composed  by  Dumont.     They  undertook  together  a  journal.     The  Courier 
of  Province,  designed  to  develope  and  render  popular  the  new  doctrines;  and, 
as  was  likely  to  happen  in  such  a  partnership,  the  most  assiduous  as  well  as 
the  most  important  labour  fell  upon  Duinont.' — flismondi. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  149 

afterwards  betook  himself  to  the  church,  and  though 
Mr.  Bentham  told  me  that  M.  Dumont  was  never  a 
lawyer,  and  that  he  was  never  able  to  understand  the 
course  of  law-procedure  in  England,  I  have  always 
thought  he  must  have  pursued  the  study  of  law  some- 
where, and  the  idea  is  supported  by  the  following 
words,  taken  out  of  a  passage  in  his  Traite  des 
Preuves  Judiciares,  p.  136,  vol.  ii.  *  Depuis  qitc  fai 
suivi  noire  tribunal  a  Geneve,  'fai  vu,J  Sfc.  8,'c. 

I  shall  not  attempt  any  thing  more  than  a  biogra- 
phical sketch  of  M.  Dumont;  for  my  materials  are 
too  much  scattered,  and  most  of  them  require  to  be 
authenticated.  To  those  who  know  nothing  of  his 
life  or  character,  it  may  be  gratifying  however  to 
hear,  that  he  W7as  distinguished  not  only  as  a  writer, 
but  as  a  speaker  ;  and  that  while  he  was  in  England, 
he  became  celebrated  as  a  reader ;  ( 3 )  so  much  so, 
that  after  being  employed  as  a  tutor,  in  the  family 
of  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  he  received  a  pension 
of  four  hundred  pounds  in  the  way  of  a  clerkship, 
which  pension  was  afterwards  augmented  to  five  hun- 
dred pounds,  equal  to  about  twenty-four  hundred  dol- 
lars of  our  money,  under  pretence  of  rewarding  him 
for  the  labour  he  had  bestowed  on  the  works  of  Bent- 
ham. 

This  being  the  character  and  these  the  pursuits  of 
our  editor,  the  wonder  is  how  he  ever  came  to  relish 
the  works  of  a  man  so  remarkable  for  severity  of 
thought  and  exactness  of  language  as  the  author  of 
the  Treatise  on  Punishments  and  Rewards  ;  how  he 
ever  had  the  patience  to  go  through  with  such  a  pile 

(3)  In  giving  an  account  of  the  Clubs  of  London,  a  writer  of  the  day 
says,  that  among  the  most  frequent  attendants,  were  '  Scarlet,  Sam  Rogers, 
the  "Pleasures  of  Memory"  Rogers,  honest  John  Allen,  brother  of  the  bluest 
of  blues  (Lady  Mackintosh) ,  M.  Dumont,  a  French  emigrant  of  distinction,  the 
friend  and  correspondent  of  the  Abbe  de  Lisle,  (author  of  Les  Jardins,)  whose 
verses  he  was  somewriat  apt  to  recite,  with  most  interminable  perseverance,  in 
spite  of  yawns,  and  other  symptoms  of  dislike,  which  his  own  politeness  (for 
he  was  a  highly-bred  man)  forbade  him  to  interpret  into  the  absence  of  it  in 
others  ' 


150  M.   DUMONT. 

of  manuscript  as  he  did — the  most  difficult  manu- 
script I  ever  saw  ;  mostly  in  a  foreign  tongue,  (4) 
and  all  upon  subjects  entirely  new ;  and  how,  consid- 
ering the  light  under  which  Mr.  Bentham  was  viewed 
in  his  native  country,  M.  Dumont  ever  had  the  cour- 
age to  persevere  as  he  did.  But,  on  reading  his  Bent- 
ham,  a  part  of  these  perplexities  disappear.  You  find 
the  severity  of  Bentham's  reasoning  kept  under,  the 
philosophy  thereof  abridged,  the  logic  subdued,  the 
vigour  and  amplitude  and  exactness  put  aside  for 
something  more  palatable.  Throughout  the  work, 
wherever  the  hand  of  M.  Dumont  appears  at  all,  you 
detect  the  beautifying,  enervating  spirit  of  the  de- 
claimer,  and  the  sophist.  And  if  you  read  over  the 
preface,  written  wholly  by  himself,  and  called  a  PRE- 
LIMINARY DISCOURSE,  you  will  see  how  far,  and  in 
what  way  his  mind  is  incapable  of  grappling  with  the 
subjects  treated  of  by  Bentham. 

To  know  all  this  however,  one  must  be  familiar 
with  Bentham  in  English.  I  am.  I  have  read  all 
his  works.  I  have  studied  most  of  them ;  and  I  know 
instantly  where  M.  Dumont  has  interposed,  though 
it  were  to  say  nothing,  but  only  to  prevent  his  author 
from  saying  too  much. 

Yet  to  M.  Dumont  are  we  deeply  indebted.  He 
has  made  the  works  of  Bentham  what  they  never 
would  have  been,  but  for  the  order  he  has  reduced 
them  to,  and  the  excellent  style  in  which  they  are 
served  up — he  has  made  them  popular  throughout 
Europe.  In  France  they  have  published  three  edi- 
tions of  three  thousand  copies  each,  of  the  work  al- 
luded to  in  the  following  discourse.  It  appears  in 

(4)  The  Theory  of  Punishments  and  Rewards  was  written  in  French  by  Mr. 
Bentham;  and  for  reasons  already  referred  to.  The  truth  is,  that  Mr.  Bentham 
having  arranged  the  work  in  his  own  head,  grew  nervous  when  he  thought  of 
writing  it  in  a  language  the  imperfections  of  which  were  forever  obtruding 
themselves  upon  his  eye.  If  he  did  it  in  English,  he  saw  that  he  should  never 
be  satisfied  with  it — a  finished  work  must  be  made  of  it  or  nothing.  In  French 
however  a  drawing  would  do — a  mere  outline — a  sketch;  and  therefore  he  left 
his  own  language  and  betook  himself  to  another. 


PRINCIPLES    OF    LEGISLATION.  lol 

three  large  volumes,  and  has  never  been  offered  to 
the  public  in  English.  I  was  occupied  with  it  at  onr; 
time,  and  preparations  were  made  for  bringing  it 
forth  in  London  while  I  was  there;  but  owing  to  cir- 
cumstances not  necessary  to  be  related  here,  I  threw 
it  up.  Of  the  other  works  edited  by  M.  Dumonl, 
several  editions  have  appeared;  and  as  most  of  those 
who  would  be  likely  to  purchase  them  in  England, 
are  able  to  read  French,  if  nothing  more ;  and  as  the 
French  work  would  not  cost,  imported  into  England, 
more  than  a  third  as  much  as  the  same  work  would 
cost  in  English,  there  has  been  hitherto  a  considera- 
ble sale  of  the  French  editions  in  England. 

M.  Dumont  is  still  at  Geneva,  enjoying  the  pension 
allowed  him  by  the  British  government,  and  occa- 
sional! v  brino'ins;  out  new  editions  of  these  invaluable 

»/  O         O 

books.  (/>) 

Since  the  above  was  prepared,  I  have  obtained  from 
authority  which  is  not  to  be  questioned,  the  following- 
particulars  concerning  M.  Dumont.  I  give  it  in  the 
very  language  of  the  writer,  of  whose  familiar  and 
half-colloquial  style  it  is  eminently  characteristic. 

'  Mr.  Bentham  on  his  return  from  his  travels  in 
February  17H8,  found  M.  Dumont  domiciliated  in 
Lansdowne  house.  He  had  then  been  a  year  or  two 
in  England  ;  he  was  a  citizen  of  Geneva  ;  his  father 
and  family  had  emigrated  from  thence  to  Peters- 
burgh,  where  his  father  was  court-jeweller.  Du- 
mont, Stephen,  with  the  addition  of  some  others, 
was  his  Christian  name,  had  been  bred  to  the  church. 
At  Petersburgh  he  became  highly  distinguished  as  a 
pulpit  orator.  About  the  year  17116,  Col.  Isaac  Barre, 
having  become  blind,  had  need  of  a  companion  to 
read  to  him;  to  occupy  this  situation,  Dumont  repair- 
ed from  Petersburg  to  London.  Barre  was  one  of 

(;"))  Sine.;  this  \v;is  written,  the  death  of  M.  Dnniont  is  announced  in  the 
journals  of  F.nroj"1.  :-><.•  a  Biographical  Memoir  of  him  in  u  ^ubsequeat  page 
of  ihis  work. 


152  M.   DUMONT. 

the  two  most  confidential  friends  of  Lord  Lansdowne 
in  the  house  of  commons.  Lord  Lansdowne  was  the 
head  of  a  party,  and  for  somewhat  less  than  a  year, 
in  the  years  1782  and  1783,  had  been  prime  minister. 
How  it  happened,  that  from  Col.  Barre's  house  Du- 
mont  passed  into  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne's  family, 
is  not  remembered.  Lord  Lansdowne  had  twro  sons, 
one  by  his  first  wife,  aged  about  twenty-three, who  suc- 
ceeded him  in  the  marquisate,but  though  married, died 
childless;  the  other,  by  his  second  wife,  is  the  present 
Marquis,  aged  at  that  time  nine  years.  The  notion 
is,  that  Dumont  was  looked  to,  by  him,  as  qualified  to 
take  a  part  in  the  education  of  the  youngest,  at  least, 
of  these  sprigs  of  nobility,  and  that  for  this  purpose 
Barre,  who  owed  every  thing  to  his  patron,  was  in- 
duced to  give  his  consent  to  the  transference. 

Lord  Lansdowne  had  been  placed  in  the  army, 
where  he  served  writh  distinction,  in  the  seven  years' 
war,  and  formed  his  connexion  with  Col.  Barre.  The 
literary,  as  well  as  every  other  part  of  his  education, 
had  either  been  neglected  or  misconducted.  While 
yet  a  subaltern,  it  happened  to  him  to  be  quartered  in 
some  obscure  country  town,  where  he  found  no  soci- 
ety from  which  he  could  receive  either  improvement 
or  amusement.  Books,  of  some  sort  or  other,  there 
were  in  the  town,  and  to  these  he  was  driven  as  the 
sole  resource  that  he  found  open  to  him.  To  this  in- 
cident he  was  indebted  for  that  love  of  literature,  and 
fondness  of  the  society  of  literary  men,  by  which  he 
became  so  distinguished  from  his  rivals. 

In  the  year  1776,  came  out  Mr.  Bentham's  first 
work,  the  >  Fragment  on  Government.'  In  the  spring 
of  178 1,  the  Earl  of-Shelburne  called  upon  him  to 
express  his  admiration  of  the  work,  and  to  solicit  the 
acquaintance  of  the  author.  The  acquaintance  ripen- 
ed into  a  close  intimacy.  In  the  year  1781  or  1782, 
the  greatest  part  of  Mr.  Bentham's  work  entitled, 
'Introduction  to  the  Theory  of  Morals  and  Legisla- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  153 

tion,'  being  in  print,  was  put  by  him  into  Lord  Shel- 
burne's  hands.  The  '  Fragment'  had  been  read  by 
his  lordship  with  a  degree  of  enthusiasm,  which  he 
took  every  opportunity  to  communicate  to  such  of  his 
friends  as  afforded  a  promise  of  being  susceptible  of 
it.  The  work  on  Morals  and  Legislation,  had  been 
read  by  him  with  correspondent  interest.  At  the 
time  of  Mr.  Bentham's  return  to  England,  as  above, 
he  found  Dumont,  of  course,  not  unacquainted  with 
it.  In  the  interval  between  the  year  1781  and  this 
year  1788,  the  matter  of  that  work  had  received 
considerable  additions  in  manuscript.  Of  their  con- 
versations on  the  subject,  the  result  was,  the  papers 
being  for  a  time  communicated  to  Dumont  and  plac- 
ed in  his  hands.  The  whole  together,  printed  and 
manuscript,  being  in  a  state  far  short  of  completion, 
Mr.  Bentham  could  not  harbour  any  such  thought  as 
that  of  publishing  it  at  that  time,  or  at  any  other  than 
a  contingent,  as  well  as  indefinitely  remote  period. 
Dumont  said,  that  with  the  help  of  a  little  labour, 
which  would  carry  with  it  its  own  reward,  he  thought 
that  if  put  into  French,  he  could  make  such  a  work 
of  it  as  need  not  be  afraid  of  meeting  the  public  eye. 
Mr.  Bentham,  considering  that  on  this  plan  he  should 
stand  exempt  from  the  responsibility  attached  to  the 
publication  of  a  work  manifestly  imperfect,  embraced 
the  proposal,  not  merely  with  acquiescence,  but  with 
alacrity. 

This  was  in  1788  :  the  next  year  opened  the  dawn 
of  the  French  Revolution.  Dumont  repaired  to  Paris. 
Amongst  other  features  by  which  the  character  of  the 
Earl  of  Shelburne  had  become  distinguished,  was  the 
intercourse  he  had  formed  and  kept  up  with  the  most 
distinguished  men  of  the  most  distinguished  nations 
of  the  continent :  Dumont  failed  not  to  reap  the  be- 
nefit of  it.  Amongst  other  persons,  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  celebrated  Comte  de  Mirabeau. 
Of  all  the  active  citizens  of  the  time  and  place,  Mi- 
20 


154  M.   DUMONT. 

rabeau  was  the  most  active  :  the  most  distinguish- 
ed orator,  and  the  most  distinguished  writer  at  the 
same  time.  But  though  on  former  occasions  it  was 
to  his  own  pen  that  he  was  principally  indebted  for 
his  reputation,  on  this  occasion  it  was  to  others,  that 
he  was  exclusively,  or  almost  exclusively,  indebted. 
Under  his  name,  by  the  title  of  '  Lettres  a.  ses  Com- 
mettansj  came  out  a  periodical  on  the  topics  of  the 
day :  it  was  by  Dumont  that,  at  the  outset,  and  for  a 
considerable  length  of  time,  perhaps  the  whole  of  the 
time, — the  pen  was  held.  With  him,  but  under  him, 
was  a  man  of  considerable  reputation,  but  whose 
name  is  not  now  remembered.  Of  these  letters  of 
Dumont,  a  great  part  of  the  matter,  probably  all  that 
was  new,  was  taken  from  Mr.  Bentham's  papers. 
During  this  interesting  period,  Dumont  was  some- 
times at  Paris,  sometimes  in  London  ;  at  Paris  he 
was,  at  the  time  the  elections  for  the  second  National 
Assembly  were  going  on  ;  that  assembly,  for  which 
Joseph  Priestly  and  Thomas  Paine  was  returned  :  it 
is  not  remembered  whether  Thomas  Paine  sat.  Bris- 
sot  then,  or  soon  afterwards,  at  the  head  of  the  party 
called  the  Girondists,  had  been  in  England  not  long 
before  the  year  1784  :  he  had  contracted  an  intimacy 
with  Mr.  Bentham.  Dumont,  on  his  arrival  at  Paris, 
had  found  him  busy  in  canvassing  for  seats  in  the 
Assembly ;  among  the  names  for  which  he  had  been 
most  active,  was  that  of  Jeremy  Bentham.  Judging 
from  the  complexion  of  the  times,  Dumont  thought  it 
a  matter  of  obligation,  laid  on  him  by  his  duty  to  his 
friend,  to  do  what  he  could  to  prevent  his  being  sta- 
tioned in  a  post  of  so  much  danger  :  without  saying 
any  thing  to  Mr.  Bentham,  he  laboured  and  succeed- 
ed. This  was,  it  is  believed,  somewhere  about  the 
year  1793,  but  the  history  of  the  times  will  show. 
After  this,  Dumont's  stay  at  Paris,  it  may  well  be 
imagined,  did  not  long  continue.  On  his  return,  he 
resumed  his  situation  in  Lansdowne  House,  and  re- 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  155 

tained  it  till  about  the  year  18 — ,  when  he  paid  a 
visit  to  his  own  country,  Geneva,  where  he  took  a 
prominent  and  efficient  part  in  its  political  affairs. 
In  1802,  came  out  the  first  of  his  translations  of  Mr. 
Bentham's  works,  that  in  3  vols.  8vo.  '  Traitcs  de  Le- 
gislation.' Out  of  this  work,  seems  to  have  been 
formed  the  pretence  for  a  pension  of  £500  a-year, 
which  he  enjoys  at  present.  The  history  of  this  pen- 
sion is  curious  enough,  and  not  uncharacteristic  of  the 
matchless  Constitution,  the  envy  and  admiration  of 
surrounding  nations.  In  the  department  of  the  Ex- 
chequer there  existed,  in  those  days,  a  sinecure  call- 
ed the  Clerkship  of  the  Pells  :  produce  in  fees,  about 
£3,000  a-year.  Soon  after  the  accession  of  Lord 
Shelburne,  this  sinecure  was  found  or  made  vacant, 
and  Col.  Barre  was  invested  with  it.  Under  this 
clerk,  were  clerks  in  considerable  numbers,  by  whom 
the  business  was  carried  on  :  of  these  under  clerk- 
ships, the  highest  in  pay  and  dignity  (pay  in  fees 
about  £400  a  year)  was  likewise  soon  after  found 
or  made  vacant,  and  found  or  made  a  sinecure,  and 
being  so  found  or  made,  was  given  to  M.  Dumont : 
the  said  M.  Dumont  not  being  a  native,  this  appoint- 
ment was  contrary  to  an  express  law,  but  there  are 
times  and  seasons  at  which  laws  are  silent,  or  tanta- 
mount to  it.  Since  then,  M.  Dumont  has  figured  in  a 
double  character  and  under  two  different  names, — in 
England,  in  the  Red  Book,  Stephen  Dumont,  Esq. ; 
in  Geneva,  Citizen  Elienne  Dumont,  with  an  inter- 
vening string  of  other  Christian  names.  In  18 — . 
when  Mr.  Addington  (now  Viscount  Sidmouth)  be- 
came Premier,  this  Clerkship  of  the  Pells  was  too 
precious  a  jewel  to  be  left  in  non-ministerial  hands. 
Col.  Barre  was  at  this  time  blind — as  such,  an  object 
of  charity :  the  sinecure  was  taken  from  him,  but 
£3,000  a-year,  under  the  name  of  pension,  was 
granted  to  him  in  lieu  of  it.  A  son  of  Mr.  Adding- 
ton's  got  the  clerkship.  In  the  year  1806,  came  a 


156  M.   DUMONT. 

fresh  ministerial  change,  to  which  the  whigswere  in- 
debted for  their  short-lived  reign — First  Lord  of  the 
Treasury,  Lord  Grenville  :  Chancellor  of  the  Ex- 
chequer, Lord  Henry  Petty,  youngest  of  the  quon- 
dam Earl  of  Shelburne's  (now  Marquis  of  Lans- 
downe's)  two  sons.  On  this  occasion,  the  list  of  the 
clerks  above  mentioned  came  to  be  overhauled.  For 
no  inconsiderable  length  of  time,  Stephen  Dumont, 
Esq.  was  in  a  state  of  trepidation  :  all  this  time  the 
sinecure  was  tottering  and  threatening  to  slip  from 
under  him.  He  was  not  altogether  destitute,  having 
made  some  savings  which  he  had  invested  in  the 
French  Funds,  but  these  had  undergone  what  was 
called  consolidation  ;  in  plain  English,  two-thirds  of 
the  interest  on  the  capital  had  been  struck  off.  Of 
this  little  political  earthquake,  what  was  the  result  ? 
The  £400  a-year,  instead  of  being  struck  off,  was 
thrown  up  in  the  form  of  a  pension,  and  had  a  hun- 
dred a-year  added  to  it. 

Since  then  his  time  has  been  passed  in  vibrating 
between  London,  Paris  and  Geneva  ;  of  late  years 
mostly  in  Geneva.  When  in  England,  a  good  part 
of  it  has  been  passed  at  Holland-house,  Kensington  : 
sometimes  at  Bowood,  in  Wiltshire,  the  seat  of  the 
Marquis  of  Lansdowne.  At  Geneva,  some  years 
were  passed  in  the  endeavour  to  obtain  adoption  for 
a  Penal  Code,  which,  as  far  as  it  went,  was  on  the 
principles  of  Mr.  Bentham,  as  explained  in  the  first 
published  work.  During  two  years,  prodigious,  M. 
Dumont  used  to  say,  was  the  consumption  of  words 
that  took  place  on  the  occasion.  The  persons  with 
whom  he  had  to  do,  were  Aristocrats  to  the  back- 
bone. Next  to  impregnable  was  the  visincrtice  which 
he  had  to  contend  against.  In  a  more  particular 
degree  distasteful,  was  the  Rationale,  which  consti- 
tutes so  distinguishing  an  ingredient  in  those  speci- 
mens of  a  Code  which  may  be  seen  in  that  work. 
Without  the  reasons,  it  might  have  passed ;  but  rea- 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  157 

son,  and  reasons,  made  every  thing  dry  into  which 
they  were  introduced.  At  the  end  of  a  struggle  of 
several  years,  M.  Dumont  has  continued  to  introduce, 
in  some  indirect  form,  into  that  mixed  Constitution 
in  which  Aristocracy  has,  in  a  high  degree,  the  as- 
cendant, some  small  additional  spice  of  democracy, 
insomuch  that  with  reference  to  the  interest  of  this, 
his  little  State  (the  population  of  which,  by  the  last 
changes,  has  been  increased  to  40,000  inhabitants) 
he  has  the  satisfaction  of  felicitating  himself  on  the 
not  having  lived  in  vain. 

Having  now  furnished  the  reader  with  Mr.  Bent- 
ham's  opinion  of  Dumont — in  Mr.  Bentharn's  own 
language,  written  while  M.  Dumont  was  alive,  it  may 
not  be  improper,  to  put  side  by  side  with  it  what 
others  have  said  of  him,  since  his  death.  In  a  late 
number  of  the  Revue  Encyclopedique  there  is  a  Bio- 
graphical Memoir  of  M.  Dumont,  by  his  intimate 
friend  M.  Sismondi.  Generally  speaking,  it  is  faith- 
ful and  fair;  but  sometimes  the  enthusiastic  admirer 
of  M.  Dumont  has  gone  widely  astray.  Believing 
that  such  error,  so  sanctioned,  so  fortified,  and  so  dis- 
tributed, are  worth  correcting — for  the  Revue  En- 
cyclopedique is  a  book  of  authority, — and  circulated 
in  every  part  of  the  world — I  have  thought  fair  to  re- 
publish  the  testimony  of  M.  Sismondi  (trusting  to 
the  translation  above  referred  to  in  page  148)  with 
a  few  brief  notes  in  reply. 


SKETCH  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  STEPHEN  DUMONT. 

BY  J.  C.  L.  DE  SISMONDI. 
Translated  from  the  Revue  Encyclopedique. 

Geneva  has  just  lost  one  of  those  citizens  who  con- 
stituted its  glory,  and  who,  drawing  to  this  little  state 
the  eyes  of  all  Europe,  gave  to  it  importance  and  dig- 
nity. M.  Stephen  Dumont,  seized  suddenly  with  in- 


158  M.   DUMONT. 

fiammation  of  the  bowels,  while  on  a  journey  of  plea- 
sure, died  at  Milan  the  29th  of  last  September,  a 
few  hours  after  the  danger  had  begun  to  show  itself. 

M.  Dumont,  born  at  Geneva  in  the  month  of  July, 
1759,  of  a  father  who  had  suffered  great  reverses  of 
fortune,  was  left  from  his  earliest  infancy,  with  three 
sisters,  to  the  charge  of  a  mother  who  had  no  proper- 
ty, but  her  talents  and  great  virtues.  She  formed 
the  character  of  her  son,  who  loved  her,  and  she  liv- 
ed to  a  great  old  age.  If  from  his  infancy  he  had  to 
contend  with  adversity,  from  his  infancy  also  he  an- 
nounced that  superiority  of  talents,  spirit  and  intelli- 
gence, which  enabled  him  while  he  followed  his  class- 
es at  college,  to  repeat  to  his  fellow-students  the  les- 
sons which  he  was  taking,  and  to  lighten  in  this  man- 
ner the  sacrifices  that  his  mother  was  making  to  pro- 
cure him  a  literary  education.  He  was  destined  to 
the  ecclesiastical  career,  and  was  ordained  a  minister 
of  the  Protestant  church  in  17<H.  His  talent  for 
preaching  fixed  every  eye  on  him  at  once.  He  was 
only  twenty  years  old — but  the  recollection  is  still 
retained  of  those  sermons  preached  during  the  first 
year  of  his  ministry,  when  a  rich  imagination,  a  style 
as  clear  as  harmonious,  ornamented  the  effusions  of  a 
heart  full  of  sensibility,  and  a  mind  always  philoso- 
phical, even  when  he  was  ranging  the  regions  of  the- 
ology. 

But  during  the  youth  of  M.  Dumont,  a  Genevan 
could  not  avoid  attaching  himself  to  one  of  the  par- 
ties which  divided  the  republic.  Professing  already, 
as  he  did  to  the  end  of  his  life,  the  love  of  all  men, 
respect  for  their  moral  and  intellectual  progress,  wish- 
ing to  shelter  them  as  far  as  depended  on  himself  from 
suffering  and  vice,  persuaded  that  every  one  has  more 
interest  in  his  own  well-being  and  his  own  develop- 
ment than  any  other  man  can  have  for  him,  he  belong- 
ed from  that  time  to  the  party  of  liberty-  and  moral 
perfectibility,  and  to  this  party  he  remained  attached 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  159 

the  whole  of  his  life.  While  very  young  he  united 
himself  by  a  very  tender  friendship  with  the  eminent 
men  who  directed  at  Geneva,  the  party  which  was 
denominated  there  the  Representative,  or  the  party 
professing  democratical  principles.  So  when  the  vic- 
tory was  secured  to  the  opposite  one,  in  the  spring  of 
the  year  1782,  by  the  armed  mediation  of  France,  of 
Savoy,  and  of  one  of  the  aristocratical  cantons,  he 
departed  voluntarily  from  a  country  where  liberty  ap- 
peared in  his  view  to  be  lost.  It  has  been  erroneous- 
ly asserted  that  he  was  exiled.  This  departure  from 
Geneva  was  considered  by  those  who  triumphed  there, 
as  ranging  him  among  the  party  men;  and  indeed  if 
this  name  belongs  to  those  who  are  immovable  in  their 
principles,  who  never  palter  with  what  they  believe 
to  be  their  duty,  fifty  years'  constancy  to  the  same 
opinions,  through  the  storms  which  overturned  his 
country  and  Europe,  and  which  have  presented  politi- 
cal opinions  under  so  many  different  points  of  view, 
would  certainly  give  to  him  the  most  honourable 
place  among  the  supporters  of  liberal  opinions  at  Ge- 
neva. But  if  to  the  name  of  a  party  man  the  idea  is 
attached  either  of  the  arts  of  intrigue, or  the  passions 
which  stifle  benevolence,  no  man  merited  it  less.  His 
mind,  always  conciliating,  comprehended  all  opinions, 
even  those  most  opposite  to  his  own,  and  met  them 
at  their  reasonable  point ;  his  heart,  which  could  not 
hate,  preserved  no  resentment  either  against  those 
who  opposed  them  or  against  those  who  wished  to 
injure  him.  His  policy  knew  no  rules  but  those  of 
frankness  and  moderation. 

In  quitting  Geneva,  M.  Dumont  went  to  Peters- 
burgh,  where  he  was  appointed  pastor  of  the  French 
reformed  church  ;  his  mother  followed  him  thither, 
and  his  sisters  were  honourably  married  there.  His 
talents  for  the  pulpit  shone  there  with  a  new  eclat, 
and  caused  his  acquaintance  to  be  sought  by  the  emi- 
nent men,  Russians  or  strangers,  who  were  at  the 


160  M.  DUMONT. 

court  of  Catharine  II.  He  had  remained  there  but 
eighteen  months,  when  Lord  Lansdowne  invited  him 
to  England  with  the  intention  of  employing  him  to 
finish  the  education  of  his  son.  It  was  in  the  house 
of  this  statesman  that  he  formed  intimate  connexions 
with  some  of  the  men  who  have  done  most  honour 
to  Great  Britain,  with  Sir  Samuel  Romilly  among 
others,  the  most  virtuous  as  well  as  the  most  learned 
of  the  orators  of  that  country,  of  whom  Dumont  was 
the  chosen  friend.  This  attachment,  which  contri- 
buted so  much  to  the  happiness  of  his  life,  always 
made  him  consider  England  as  his  second  country. 
At  the  same  time  his  curiosity,  so  active  respecting 
every  thing  which  interested  the  fate  of  man,  made 
him  from  them  collect  those  delicate  and  just  obser- 
vations on  the  human  heart,  and  that  store  of  anec- 
dote which  rendered  his  conversation  always  new 
and  piquante.* 
******* 

Meantime  the  revolution  did  not  long  retain  its 
purity,  and  as  soon  as  scenes  of  violence  and  cruelty 
began  to  sully  the  cause  of  liberty,  Dumont  quitted 
Paris,  and  returned  to  England,  before  the  sickness 
of  Mirabeau,  who  died  April  2,  179  J.  The  shock  of 
interests  and  of  passions  among  men  who  had  been 
brought  up  under  the  discipline  of  the  old  monarchy 
and  the  church,  could  not  continue  without  manifest- 
ing the  deplorable  effects  of  the  education  of  the  an- 
cient regime.  No  fixed  principle,  either  of  morality 
or  of  benevolence,  could  be  deeply  implanted  in 
hearts,  in  the  midst  of  so  much  falsehood  and  mean- 
ness. The  men  who  had  been  formed  under  abso- 
lute kings,  and  under  the  priests,  were  as  vicious  as 
those  whose  places  they  had  taken;  and  as  several 
replaced  a  single  one,  society  became  the  victim  of 
the  passions,  the  vices  and  crimes  of  several  instead 

*  Here  follows  a  passage  relating  to  Mirabeau,  published  in  page  148. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  161 

of  an  individual.  Tyranny  was  multiplied  with  the 
number  of  those  in  power,  and  blood  was  poured  out 
on  every  side.  When  the  details  of  this  tyranny, 
which  was  called  the  reign  of  terror,  reached  Du- 
mont  in  England,  he  was  overcome  with  grief.  He 
thought  he  saw  the  cause  dishonoured,  to  which  he 
had  devoted  his  life,  and  without  having  taken  part 
in  any  action  with  which  he  could  reproach  himself, 
without  having  contributed  to  the  diffusion  of  any 
principle  which  he  wished  to  disavow,  tormented  only 
by  the  recollection  of  his  wishes  so  cruelly  deceived, 
he  remained  for  some  years  plunged  in  sadness,  which 
almost  seemed  to  him  like  remorse. 

What  contributed  the  most  to  draw  him  from  this 
state  of  depression,  was  his  increased  intimacy  with 
the  English  lawyer,  Jeremy  Bentham,  whom  he  had 
known  since  1788.  The  conversation  of  this  extra- 
ordinary man,  and  subsequently  the  examination  of 
his  manuscripts,  introduced  him  to  a  new  career. 
M.  Dumont  had  studied  with  ardor  the  general  the- 
ory of  legislation,  as  making  a  part  of  political  eco- 
nomy, but  he  had  not  devoted  himself  especially  to 
jurisprudence.  He  had  seen  abuses  of  the  laws  on 
the  continent  and  in  England,  but  he  had  not  attempt- 
ed to  ascend  to  the  principles  of  right,  and  he  shrunk 
with  a  sort  of  terror  before  an  erudition  so  vast,  so 
complicated, and  often  so  irrational.  It  was  apparent- 
ly this  sentiment  which  made  him  receive  with  so  lively 
an  admiration  and  a  faith  so  entire,  the  doctrines  of  a 
philosophy  which,  issuing  from  a  single  principle,  pro- 
ceeding always  by  the  same  method,  with  the  power  of 
a  severe  reasoning,  established  order,  regularity  and 
light  in  chaos.  It  was  the  enchanted  forest  of  Tas- 
so,  dark,  inextricable,  and  peopled  with  frightful  spec- 
tres; suddenly  an  enchanter  cuts  for  himsejf  straight 
and  regular  paths,  opens  to  all  the  direction  to  his 
most  secret  retreats,  and  throws  over  every  object  a 

21 


162  M.    DUMONT. 

gentle  and  equal  light.     The  enthusiasm  of  Dumont 
for  Bentham  was  kept  up  without  deviation  or  divi- 
sion, to  the  end  of  his  life.     The  English  lawyer  was 
for  him,  written  reason,  a  name  that  the  men  of  the 
law  have   given  with  less  faith  to  the  body  of  the 
Roman  law.     We  have  sometimes  heard  him  say  of 
what  he   most  admired  in  other  philosophers,  '  it  is 
convincing,  it  is  truth  itself,  it  is  almost  BenthamicS 
The  submission  of  so  superior  a  mind  as  that  of 
Dumont,  and  at  the  same  time   a  mind  so  inquisitive 
and  independent,  to  another  mind,  is  a  phenomenon 
which  was  perhaps  never  exhibited  to  the  same  de- 
gree.    And  the  astonishment  that  it  causes  is  doubled 
when  we  observe  the  singularities  of  the  mind  which 
excited  such  an  admiration.     Dumont  has   himself 
spoken  of  the  manuscripts  which  his  friend  put  into 
his  hands  as  'a  first  draft,'  'unfinished  manuscripts,' 
'  not  corrected,'  '  fragments  or  simple  notes' — (Pre- 
face to  the  Treatise  on  Punishments.}    This  was  point- 
ing out  but  a  small  part  of  their  disadvantages.     But 
it  is  from  this  source  that  he  drew  out  all  the  philo- 
sophy of  Bentham.     The  public  had   afterward  an 
occasion  to  judge  of  Mr.  Bentham's  style,  when  he 
published  himself,  of  his  obscurity,  his  neologism,  his 
pleasantries  at  the   same  time  grotesque  and  learn- 
ed. (6)     The  pomp  with  which  he  sometimes  intro- 
duces those  trivial  notions  that  the  English  call  tru- 
isms, the  silliness  of  his  enumerations,  when  he  ap- 
plied what  he  called  his  exhaustive  method  to  distin- 
guish what  is  incapable  of  distinction.     Thus  we  find, 
in  a  number  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  which  has  re- 
cently appeared,  these  words  at  the  end  of  a  refuta- 
tion of  the  Utilitarian  system  of  philosophy.    'We  can- 
not close  without  expressing  the  desire  that  Mr.  Bent- 
ham  may  endeavour  to  find  better  editors  for  his  com- 
positions.    If  M.  Dumont  had  not  been  an  editor  of 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  163 

a  very  different  species  from  some  of  his  successors, 
Mr.  Bentham  would  never  have  attained  the  distinc- 
tion of  giving  his  name  to  a  sect.' — (Edin.  Rev.  No.  98, 
p.  299)  .(7) 

M.  Dumont,  judging  that  the  manuscripts  of  Mr. 
Bentham  would  never  be  published,  or  if  they  were 
in  the  original  form,  would  produce  no  impression, 
succeeded  in  having  them  given  up  to  him  to  do  what 
he  wished  with  them;  Bentham  'refused  at  the  same 
time  any  participation  in  the  work,  and  declared  that 
he  should  in  no  way  hold  himself  responsible  for  it.7 
(Theory  of  Punishments,  pref.  10.)  Dumont,  then, 
penetrating  to  the  original  ideas,  remodelled,  made 
them  over  again,  so  far  as  not  only  to  change  entirely 
the  style  of  the  work,  but  also  the  argumentation, 
distribution,  sometimes  even  the  results — suppressing 
much,  sometimes  adding,  always  making  more  per- 
fect, he  finally  produced  a  system  (8)  which  has  power- 
fully excited  thought  and  reflection  all  over  Europe. 
It  was  at  first  almost  universally  adopted  by  those 
who  pretended  to  carry  philosophy  into  legislation, 
later  and  very  recently  it  has  been  attacked  by  force 
and  by  a  sort  of  agreement  in  France  and  England, 
but  even  then  it  has  been  with  that  attention  and  re- 
spect which  the  great  promoters  of  thought  must  al- 
ways impose. 

The  works  produced  by  this  singular  fusion  of  two 
minds  into  a  single  one,  were  published  in  the  follow- 
ing order.  1.  Treatise  on  Civil  and  Penal  Legisla- 
tion, Paris,  1802,  3.  vol.  2d  edition,  Paris,  1820 — 
Bossange,  father  and  son.  2d.  Theory  of  Rewards 
and  Punishments,  London,  1811,  2  vol.  2d  and  3d 
edition,  Paris,  Hector  Bossange.  3d.  Tactics  of  Le- 
gislative Assemblies,  followed  by  a  Treatise  on  Poli- 
tical Sophisms,  Geneva,  1816,  2.  vol.  4th.  Treatise 
on  Judicial  Proofs,  Paris,  1823,  2  vol.  5th.  Of  the 
Organization  of  the  Judiciary  and  Codification,  Paris, 
J828,  1  vol. 


164  M.  DUMONT. 

Numerous  manuscripts  of  Bentham,  which  have 
already  received  the  first  labour  from  Dumont,  still 
remained  in  his  hands,  and  he  has  disposed  of  them 
in  favour  of  one  of  his  nephews,  undoubtedly  under 
the  persuasion  that  they  in  their  turn  may  be  brought 
before  the  public,  and  complete  this  great  system. 

We  shall  not  attempt  here,  in  the  small  space  which 
is  allowed  us,  to  make  known  this  system  or  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  differs  from  those  which  before  and 
since  have  been  applied  to  legislation.  The  name 
alone  of  the  philosophy  of  Utility  explains  every  thing 
that  could  be  said  of  it  in  a  few  words,  ^s  the  ba- 
sis of  morality,  as  a  moving  principle  of  the  actions  of 
men,  either  taken  individually  or  acting  in  society,  or 
in  prescribing  rules  in  the  name  of  this  society,  Bent- 
ham  and  Dumont  acknowledge  only  the  search  of  the 
greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number.  They  are  on  the 
other  hand  very  desirous  to  separate  their  system 
from  that  of  Helvetius,  who  acknowledges  as  the 
moving  principle  of  men's  actions,  nothing  but  per- 
sonal interest,  that  is,  the  greatest  good  of  him  who 
is  acting.  The  difference  between  the  two  systems 
is  exactly  the  weak  point  of  the  Benthamic  doctrine, 
the  point  which  is  at  present  most  vigorously  attack- 
ed. Every  man  of  good  sense  must  agree  that  if  he 
compares  two  systems  of  morality,  two  systems  of 
legislation,  two  systems  of  religion,  the  only  means 
of  judging  one  with  regard  to  the  other,  the  only  cri- 
terion to  determine  the  best,  is  to  discover  which  of 
the  two  tends  most  certainly  and  most  directly  to  the 
good  of  all.  If  under  the  name  of  good  we  comprise 
moral  gopd,  perfection,  as  well  as  physical  good,  we 
shall  find  no  one  to  contradict  this.  But  while  our 
reason  assists  us  to  determine  what  is  the  best  for 
the  whole,  it  does  not  show  that  the  best  for  all  is 
the  best  for  ourselves.  If  the  case  is  presented 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  165 

where  the  interest  of  the  whole  is  opposed  to  our 
personal  interest,  reason,  calculation  alone  will  not 
lead  us  to  prefer  the  good  of  the  whole  to  our  own. 
Nothing  in  our  judgment  when  unaided  is  opposed  to 
our  preferring  our  present  interest  when  it  is  very 
strong  and  very  passionately  desired,  to  the  more  ex- 
tensive future  interests  which  we  may  perhaps  never 
see,  or  which  we  have  resolved  not  to  see. 

If  the  system  of  Bentham  can  be  expressed  by  the 
phrase  *  every  one  seeks  first  of  all  the  greatest  good 
of  the  greatest  number' — it  is  contrary  to  universal 
observation ;  if  it  is  expressed  in  this  phrase,  '  every 
one  ought  to  seek  above  all  the  greatest  good  of  the 
greatest  number,'  this  word  ought  admits  the  exist- 
ence of  another  principle  superior  to  that  of  Utility. 
This  is  duty,  morality,  of  which  the  origin  and  the 
motive  must  be  sought  elsewhere  than  in  the  Utili- 
tarian philosophy,  elsewhere  than  in  interest.  (9) 

This  blank  in  the  system  which  was,  a  few  months 
since,  pointed  out  by  one  of  the  most  devoted  friends 
of  M.  Dumont,  by  one  of  those  men  who  admired  him 
most,  (M.  Rossi,  in  his  treatise  of  penal  law)  could 
not  be  even  comprehended  by  M.  Dumont,  because 
the  principle  which  he  invoked  as  directing  men,  the 
principle  of  benevolence,  was  so  powerful  in  his 
heart,  that  he  could  not  perceive  that  there  was  need 
of  any  motive,  that  there  was  need  of  its  being  made 
a  duty  to  seek  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  num- 
ber, even  at  the  expense  of  his  own.  Goodness  was 
in  him  the  nature  even  of  things,  and  when  he  was 
asked  for  a  motive  for  labouring  for  the  greatest  good 
of  others,  it  seemed  to  him  like  asking  him  to  prove 
the  evidence.  (10) 

When  Geneva  recovered  her  independence  in  1814, 
M.  Dumont  hastened  to  return  back  to  his  country, 
and  to  bring  there  a  fortune  acquired  by  his  literary 
labours.  He  looked  on  Geneva  as  the  object  of  his 


166  M.   DUMONT. 

youthful  love,  all  his  hopes  were  attached  to  it,  he 
honoured  a  country  which  honoured  him  in  return, 
he  aspired  to  see  it  become  a  pattern  Republic,  a 
state  in  which  all  the  wisest  and  most  benevolent 
principles  should  pass  from  theory  to  practice,  and  in 
which  science  should  be  brought  to  perfection  by  tak- 
ing it  from  all  abstractions. — In  the  midst  of  these 
delightful  hopes,  he  was  astonished  and  hurt  by  see- 
ing a  constitution  presented  and  adopted  which  had 
been  drawn  up  without  consulting  any  of  those  who 
at  Geneva  had  acquired  some  reputation  by  the  study 
of  the  social  science.  He  represented  how  informal 
this  plan  was,  and  how  dangerous  it  might  become, 
in  an  address  which  he,  in  common  with  some  other 
citizens,  presented  to  the  provisional  government. 
This  step  suddenly  awakened  the  aristocratical  ha- 
treds which  had  slumbered  for  twenty  years.  They 
were  let  loose  with  that  outrageous  violence  which 
belonged  to  the  old  aristocracies,  but  which  are  no 
longer  to  be  met  with.  M.  Dumont,  who  did  not 
understand  hatred,  who  could  not  admit  a  bitter  sen- 
timent into  his  heart,  felt  extreme  grief  and  was  on 
the  point  of  returning  to  England.  A  sentiment  of 
dignity  alone  restrained  him,  it  told  him  that  he  ought 
to  face  the  storm.  The  suffrages  of  his  fellow-citi- 
zens, which  placed  him  in  the  sovereign  and  repre- 
sentative council,  made  it  his  duty  to  contend,  that 
he  might  save  as  much  as  possible  of  the  liberties  of 
his  country,  and  this  combat  was  fortunate  and  glori- 
ous. Notwithstanding  that  explosion  of  the  old  pre- 
judice which  had  so  cruelly  surprised  him,  the  chiefs 
even  of  the  aristocratical  opinions  which  he  contend- 
ed against  were  struck  with  the  clearness  and  wisdom 
of  his  ideas.  He  was  not  only  placed  on  the  com- 
mittee to  prepare  a  law  for  the  representative  coun- 
cil, but  the  project  which  he  presented  was  adopted 
in  its  principles  as  well  as  its  form  by  this  committee, 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  167 

tried  by  the  representative  council,  for  the  delibera- 
tion of  the  law  itself,  and  finally  adopted  November 
16,  1814.  Thus  was  realized  at  least  for  this  im- 
portant object  his  desire  of  making  Geneva  a  model 
of  Republics,  for  there  exists  no  where  in  practice  a 
law  more  wise,  more  clear,  more  rational,  and  which 
attains  more  completely  its  different  ends,  viz. — to 
protect  the  minority  in  the  whole  course  of  debate, 
to  preserve  logical  order  in  the  discussions,  that  every 
question  may  be  decided  by  an  expressed  will,  and 
that  the  assembly  may  never  find  itself  tied  by  sur- 
prise or  by  induction  to  what  it  has  not  willed;  final- 
ly, to  express  the  true  wish  of  the  majority,  on  all 
the  parts  and  on  the  whole  of  the  law,  in  the  vote. 

These  rules,  which  have  now  become  a  part  of  the 
Genevan  customs,  and  which  are  observed  in  all  de- 
liberative bodies,  whether  political  or  not,  have  been 
equivalent  to  the  most  important,  the  most  benevolent 
reform  in  the  constitution.  The  representatives  of 
the  nation  have  been  placed  in  a  situation  to  execute 
with  intelligence,  clearly,  completely  and  with  suffi- 
cient conciseness  all  the  business  with  which  a  great 
national  council  can  be  charged ;  and  while  the  au- 
thors of  the  constitution  had  thought  they  were  giv- 
ing to  it  only  a  nominal  sovereignty,  the  most  real 
sovereignty  has  been  fully  exercised  by  it  with  as 
much  wisdom  and  moderation  as  patriotism.  M. 
Dumont  published  this  law  at  the  end  of  his  Parlia- 
mentary tactics.  (11) 

The  republic  had  adopted  provisionally  the  French 
penal  code,  protesting  however  against  its  duration, 
and  earnestly  desiring  to  be  delivered  from  it.  In 
IB  17,  M.  Dumont  addressed  himself  to  the  first  ma- 
gistrates of  Geneva  to  offer  a  penal  code,  almost  com- 
pleted, accompanied  with  a  digested  system,  to  justify 
all  the  parts  of  it;  a  work  borrowed  in  great  part 


168  M.   DUMONT. 

from  the  manuscripts  of  Bentham.  The  proposition 
was  not  admitted  under  this  form.  It  was  thought 
necessary  to  make  this  foreign  production  more  ra- 
tional, by  a  profound  discussion,  before  it  could  be- 
come a  law  of  the  state,  and  M.  Dumont  was  joined, 
May  28,  1817,  to  a  committee  charged  with  prepar- 
ing a  penal  code.  From  the  first  sittings  the  plan  of 
M.  Dumont  was  adopted,  and  they  had  a  settled  ba- 
sis for  discussion.  Meantime,  the  code  borrowed 
from  Bentham,  was  so  different  from  the  common 
forms  of  legislation,  that  Dumosit  was  subjected  to 
difficulties  which  were  constantly  arising,  in  causing 
it  to  be  adopted  by  the  lawyers.  After  twenty-five 
laborious  sittings,  by  a  decree  of  Jan.  12,  1819,  the 
commission  appointed  from  itself  a  committee  of  four 
members  to  accelerate  this  work  and  give  it  a  more 
uniform  character.  This  committee  in  April  1821, 
had  had  seventy-five  sittings  of  four  hours  each,  when 
M.  Dumont  determined  to  'publish  the  plan,  as  it  had 
been  drawn  up  by  himself.  Since  then,  new  labours 
have  given  to  it  other  modifications,  without  the  plan 
having  yet  been  laid  before  the  sovereign  council ; 
one  of  the  most  ardent  wishes  of  M.  Dumont,  to 
give  to  his  country  a  penal  code,  worthy  of  being 
a  model,  has  always  been  delayed,  and  when  the 
fruits  of  such  continued  labour  will  finally  be  report- 
ed to  the  councils  of  the  republic,  they  will  have  the 
grief  of  discussing  it,  without  being  enlightened  in 
their  deliberation  by  its  author. 

A  more  complete  success  crowned  his  efforts  for  the 
reform  of  the  system  of  prisons.  He  had  early  re- 
marked the  serious  inconveniences  attached  to  the 
mixing  prisoners  of  different  classes  in  one  prison. 
His  discourses,  his  writings  finally  determined  the 
government  to  form  a  commission  for  establishing  a 
penitentiary  prison.  He  reported  for  this  committee 
March  1,  Io22,  to  the  representative  council.  'Give 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  169 

to  the  body,'  said  he,  in  this  report,  '  healthy  and 
pure  air,  and  you  will  banish  contagious  disorders; 
place  vicious  men  in  a  situation  where  the  causes  of 
evil  do  not  exist,  where  the  virtues  become  for  them 
the  means  of  happiness,  and  you  will  necessarily  pro- 
duce virtues.  Man  is  not  perverse  in  his  natural 
state,  whatever  the  dark  slanderers  of  human  nature 
may  say;  and  for  the  young  in  particular,  crimes  are 
often  only  accidents,  the  consequence  of  ignorance 
and  a  bad  education.  It  is  the  wild  stock  which  is 
necessary  to  be  engrafted,  and  which  may  then 
bear  healthy  fruit.  The  circumstances  in  which  it 
is  necessary  to  place  these  moral  patients  to  recover 
them,  are  a  regimen  of  habitual  labour,  of  tempe- 
rance, of  tranquillity,  of  instruction.  In  this  situa- 
tion all  is  new  for  them,  every  thing  concurs  to  pro- 
duce favourable  impressions.  No  more  exciting  con- 
versations, no  more  quarrels,  no  more  passions  fed  by 
gaming  and  spirituous  liquors.  No  privation  of  what 
is  necessary,  no  bad  treatment  which  might  exaspe- 
rate them;  moderate  labour,  of  which  they  receive 
the  fruits  themselves,  instruction  to  which  they  at- 
tend, at  first  against  their  will,  but  which  soon  be- 
comes agreeable  to  them.' 

What  he  thus  announced  was  finished  under  his 
direction.  The  penitentiary  prison  was  raised  ac- 
cording to  the  panoptic  plan  that  he  had  suggested, 
that  is  to  say,  that  an  invisible  inspection  is  extended 
over  all  the  prisoners  at  once.  (1 2)  It  is  the  true  model 
of  a  prison  which  does  honour  to  Geneva,  and  which 
all  strangers  hasten  to  visit.  The  plan  of  the  law  for 
the  government  of  the  interior  of  this  prison,  which 
M.  Dumont  presented  in  1824,  and  which  underwent 
only  some  slight  modifications,  is  not  less  worthy  to 
serve  as  a  model  to  legislators  than  the  prison  itself. 
It  has  accomplished  the  design  proposed  by  M.  Du- 
mont, and  the  public  vengeance  is  satisfied  in  bring- 

22 


170  M.   DUMONT. 

ing  back  little  by  little  the  guilty  to  a  state  which 
permits  them  to  return  again  into  society. 

M.  Dumont  since  that  time  always  continued  to 
take  an  active  and  influential  part  in  the  labours  of 
legislation.  Passions  became  calm,  prejudices  were 
dissipated,  the  gentleness,  moderation  and  conciliating 
spirit  which  were  displayed  in  his  character,  became 
always  more  and  more  remarkable.  The  contest  had 
ceased,  but  it  had  added  still  more  strength  to  his 
opinions  and  manners.  The  council  always  expected 
a  new  pleasure  when  he  rose  to  speak ;  sometimes 
he  poured  a  clear  light  on  the  principles  of  legisla- 
tion, sometimes  with  a  brilliant  imagination,  gentle 
or  animated,  he  ennobled  the  subject,  of  their  delibera- 
tions, he  brought  it  to  the  good  of  all,  he  animated 
the  details  with  a  grace  altogether  peculiar  to  him- 
self, and  he  left  every  one  proud  of  a  country  which 
nourished  such  citizens. 

It  was  thus  that  he  employed  a  life  of  seventy 
years,  a  life  always  useful  to  his  country  and  to  hu- 
manity, a  life  accompanied  almost  constantly  with 
health  of  body  and  mind,  finally  a  happy  as  well  as 
an  honourable  life.  M.  Dumont  felt  it  himself  to  be 
so,  for  he  began  his  will  by  an  '  act  of  gratitude  to- 
ward God  for  the  blessing  of  a  peaceful  and  free  life, 
which  has  been  principally  made  happy  by  the  charms 
of  study  and  the  enjoyment  of  friendship.'  This  will, 
by  which  he  distributed  legacies  among  all  his  rela- 
tions and  all  his  friends  with  a  delicate  attention,  ei- 
ther in  proportion  to  their  wants  or  valuable  from  the 
memory  of  him  who  gave  them,  appeared  to  his  fel- 
low-citizens as  the  last  accents  of  that  voice  so  dear 
to  them,  which  comes  yet  from  the  tomb  to  speak  to 
them  of  his  constant  affection,  to  encourage  them  to 
do  good,  and  to  show  them  by  his  example  the  happy 
fruits  of  virtue.' 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  171 


NOTES  TO  THE  PRECEDING  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH,  BY  J.  NEAL. 

(6)  In  alluding  to  the  style — the  English  style  of  Mr.  Bentham,  M.  Sismondi 
has  fallen  into  the  vulgar  error  of  the  Edinburgh,  by  supposing  that  all  Mr.  Bent- 
harn's  writings  require  a  translator.     Yet  some  of  them   are  acknowledged 
models  of  style  ;   the  Essay  on  Usury,  and  the  J  .diciary  System,  for  example. 
Such  in  fact  were  all   his  early  writings,  and  therefore  all  the  English  MSS. 
which  Dumont  has  had  the  clear-starching  of. 

(7)  Here  we  perceive  the  origin  of  our  Biographer's  opinion,  together  with 
his  authority.     It  is  the  Edinburgh  Review  forsooth — no  writer  in  which,  since 
the  death  of  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  had  ever  read  a  chapter  of  Bentham  in  the 
original.     This  I  say,  as  by  far  the  most  charitable  of  two  alternatives  which 
are  obtruded  upon  us  by  the  published  opinions  of  the  Edinburgh  Review. 

(8)  Produced  a  system — adding  results — compare  this  with  what  is  said 
above  about  Mr.  Bentham's  written  reason. 

(9)  The  doctrine  of  Mr.  Bentham  is  not  chargeable  with  this  nor  any  other 
like  absurdity.     All  that  he  contends  for  is,  that  reason  herself — illuminat- 
ed reason — right  reason — the  reason  of  Utilitarians — teaches,  and  not  only 
teaches,  but  proves,  that  he  who   labours  for  the  greatest  happiness  of  the 
greatest  number,  or  according  to  a  late  abbreviation  of  the  founder,  to  the 
greatest  happiness  of  mankind,  must  therefore  labour  for  the  greatest  hap- 
piness of  himself ;   and    that  he   who    wisely  labours  for  his  own  greatest 
happiness,  labours  therefore  in  aid  of  the  greatest  happiness  of  all.     And  yet 
upon  the  opposite  of  all  this,  do  the  Edinburgh  Reviewers  proceed,  whenever 
they  attack  the  system  of  the  Utilitarians  with  their  school-boy  dilemmas.    The 
highwayman  may  like  to  live  a  year  in  his  way  and  be  hanged  at  last  ;   rather 
than  drudge  through  a  long  life -in  a  vulgar  fashion  and  be  hanged  at  last.     But 
what  then  ?    Is  his  right  reason  ? — illuminated  or  educated  reason  ? — the  rea- 
son of  the  Utilitarians  ?    And  if  not,  how  are  we  to  behave  ?    Shall  we  not 
make  him  wiser  if  we  can  ?    Shall  we  not  teach  him  truth,  because  truth  is  not 
intuitive  ?     Is  not  that  in  fact  the  very  reason  why  we  should  teach  him  ?     But 
enough.    In  replying  to  this  particular  case  put  by  the  Edinburgh  Review,  and 
surrendered  by  the  Biographer  of  M.  Dumont,  I  am  only  distinguishing  one  from 
a  multitude  of  similar  misrepresentations  or  mistakes. 

(10)  Excellent  ;  M.  Dumont  himself,  acute  and  vigorous  and  clear  and  pro- 
found as  he  was  a  moment  ago,  was  not  able  to  perceive  the  blank  referred  to. 
And  why  not  ?    Because  of  the  goodness  of  his  heart  !  Why  did  it  not  occur  to 
his  biographer  that  perhaps  M.  Dumont  understood  the  system  better  than  M. 
Rossi? 

(11)  By  what  is  said  here,  one  would  believe  that  the  whole  system  of  Par- 
liamentary Tactics  originated  with  M.  Dumont.     And  yet  the  fact  is  that 


172  M.    DUMONT. 

Mr.  Bentham's  work  in  English  was  actually  printed  and  published  thirty  or 
forty  years  ago,  and  M.  Dumont  has  added  little  or  nothing  to  it. 

(12)  And  just  so  it  is  here.  Can  it  be  possible  that  M.  Sismondi  is  igno- 
rant of  the  truth  ? — If  so — what  must  be  the  character  of  the  Revue  Encyclo- 
pfdique,  for  such  ignorance  to  pass  undetected  in  its  pages?  The  whole  sys- 
tem of  the  Panopticon,  so  far  as  it  is  described  in  the  passage  printed  in  italics 
here,  originated  with  Sir  Sa^iuel  Bentham,  the  younger  brother  of  Jeremy 
Bentham,  while  the  former  was  in  the  service  of  Russia.  He  intended  it 
for  a  manufactory.  But  his  elder  brother,  Jeremy,  on  seeing  the  plan,  in- 
stantly seized  upon  it,  and  step  by  step,  in  a  series  of  letters  written  in  1787 — 
and  actually  published  in  1791,  forming  two  good  sized  volumes,  produced  that 
very  system  with  all  its  reasonings  and  details,  even  to  the  most  trivial, 
here  credited  to  M.  Dumont,  by  his  biographer,  in  the  principal  Review  of  the 
French  empire. 

But  enough.  The  merits  of  M.  Dumont  are  of  a  nature  not  to  be  aug- 
mented by  such  misrepresentations.  They  are  matter  for  history — and  for 
the  holiest  and  grandest  of  all  history,  that  of  the  human  mind.  To  the  future 
we  leave  him  therefore,  confident  that  justice  will  be  done  to  the  philosopher 
and  to  the  disciple,  and  that  without  injury  to  others. 


MORALS     AND     LEGISLATION. 


BY    JEREMY    BENTHAM. 


MORALS     AND     LEGISLATION. 

BY  JEREMY    BENTHAM. 

Translated  into  French  by  M.  Damont,  with  Notes  : 
AND    FROM    THE    FRENCH,     BY    JOHN    NEAL,    WITH    NOTES. 


PRELIMINARY    DISCOURSE.      BY   M.  DITMONT. 

THE  works  contained  in  these  three  volumes  are 
only  a  part  of  those  which  I  have  collected  from  the 
manuscripts  of  Mr.  Bentham,  and  which  I  announc- 
ed five  years  ago,  in  the  Bibliotheque  Britannique.  I 
have  continued  my  labour,  and  the  whole  are  now 
about  to  appear  in  succession. 

If,  in  preparing  these  manuscripts,  I  had  only  to 
make  a  simple  translation,  I  should  have  been  more 
easy  about  the  result.  But  I  am  not  in  a  situation  so 
fitted  to  inspire  me  with  confidence.  I  owe  it  to  the 
public  not  to  conceal  what  is  altogether  my  own  in 
the  compilation ;  and  I  owe  it  to  the  author  to  de- 
clare that  he  has  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  friend- 
ship, and  that  he  has  often  committed  to  me  with  re- 
gret, works  that  were  unfinished,  and  sometimes  ma- 
terials that  were  not  even  arranged. 

In  giving  a  general  idea  of  what  more  particularly 
concerns  myself  in  this  enterprise,  I  must  begin  with 
a  declaration,  which  ought  to  protect  me  as  well  from 
unjust  reproach,  as  from  unmerited  praise.  I  beg 
leave  to  say  that  I  have  neither  part  nor  share  in  the 
composition  of  these  different  works :  they  belong  to 
the  author,  and  to  him  alone.  The  more  highly  I 
prize  them,  the  more  eager  I  am  to  disavow  an 
honor  which  would  be  a  usurpation  as  contrary  to  the 


176  PRELIMINARY    DISCOURSE. 

faith  of  friendship  as  to  my  own  character.  I  am 
aware  that  this  declaration,  which  I  owe  to  my- 
self, would  be  superfluous,  if  there  were  none  but 
philosophical  readers  ;  such  readers  would  recognize 
throughout  all  the  diversity  of  these  writings,  the 
work  of  the  same  hand,  the  unity  of  plan,  the  original 
genius — as  profound  and  analytical  in  the  whole  of 
the  design,  as  in  the  execution  of  the  parts. 

My  work,  which  is  of  a  subordinate  character,  has 
only  been  applied  to  details.  It  was  necessary  to 
make  a  choice  among  a  great  number  of  various  read- 
ings, to  suppress  repetitions,  to  clear  up  some  obscu- 
rities, to  bring  together  all  that  belong  to  the  same 
subject,  and  to  fill  up  the  chasms  which  the  author 
had  left  in  the  heat  of  composition.  I  have  had  more 
to  retrench  than  to  add  ;  more  to  abridge  than  to  ex- 
tend. The  mass  of  manuscripts  which  have  passed 
through  my  hands,  and  which  1  have  had  to  decypher 
and  compare,  is  considerable.  I  have  had  much  to 
do  for  the  uniformity  of  style  and  in  the  way  of  cor- 
rection ;  little  or  nothing  for  the  ideas.  Nothing  but 
good  husbandry  was  required  for  the  profusion  of 
wealth  that  was  committed  to  my  care  ;  and  I  have 
neglected  no  pains  in  my  stewardship  to  make  its 
value  known  and  to  put  it  in  circulation. 

The  changes  that  I  have  had  to  make  have  varied 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  manuscript.  When  I 
have  found  several  relating  to  the  same  subject,  but 
composed  at  different  periods  and  with  different 
views,  I  have  tried  to  reconcile  them  to  each  other, 
and  so  to  unite  them  as  to  make  but  one  whole. 
Where  the  author  had  discarded  something  that  grew 
up  out  of  the  circumstances  of  the  day,  and  which 
would  not  be  interesting  nor  even  intelligible  now,  I 
have  not  always  been  willing  to  have  it  utterly  lost, 
but  have  rescued,  as  it  were  from  the  ruins,  whatever 
was  capable  of  being  preserved.  Where  he  had  giv- 
en himself  up  to  abstractions  that  were  too  profound, 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  177 

or  to  metaphysics  that  were,  I  will  not  say  too  subtle, 
but  too  dry,  I  have  tried  to  give  more  developement 
to  the  ideas,  and  to  render  them  more  familiar  by 
applications,  by  facts  and  by  examples ;  and  I  have 
even  permitted  myself  to  scatter  a  few  ornaments 
over  the  field  of  research  as  I  proceeded.  I  have  had 
to  make  up  some  entire  chapters,  but  when  I  have 
done  so,  it  has  always  been  after  the  indications  of 
the  author  and  by  the  help  of  his  notes  ;  and  the  dif- 
ficulty I  have  experienced  when  trying  to  supply  his 
deficiencies  would  have  led  me  back  to  a  modest 
opinion  of  myself,  even  if  I  had  been  tempted  astray. 

His  Introduction  to  the  Principles  of  Morals  and  Le- 
gislation, which  is  regarded  by  a  small  number  of  en- 
lightened judges  as  one  of  those  extraordinary  works 
that  form  an  era  and  a  revolution  in  science,  in  spite 
of  its  philosophical  merit,  or  peradventure  because  of 
that  merit,  produced  little  or  no  sensation,  and  con- 
tinued almost  unknown  to  the  public  ;  although  in 
England  it  is  more  common  than  elsewhere,  to  for- 
give a  useful  book  for  not  being  an  easy  and  agree- 
able book.  In  making  use  of  several  chapters  of  that 
work  for  the  General  Principles  of  Legislation,  I  have 
tried  to  avoid  what  interfered  with  its  success — forms 
that  were  too  scientific,  subdivisions  that  were  too  nu- 
merous, and  an  analysis  that  was  too  abstract.  I 
have  not  translated  the  words ;  I  have  translated  the 
ideas.  I  have  made  in  some  respects  an  abridgment, 
and  in  others  a  commentary  ;  but  in  doing  this,  I  have 
been  guided  by  the  counsels  and  indications  of  the 
author,  in  a  preface,  posterior  by  many  years  to  the 
work  itself;  and  I  have  found  in  his  papers  all  the 
additions  of  any  importance,  that  are  assembled  here. 

In  considering  how  that  work,  which   I  thought 

would  be  limited   to  two  or  three  volumes  extended 

itself  by  degrees,  and  what  a  vast  field  I  have  gone 

over,  1  regret  that  the  undertaking  should  not  have 

23 


178  PRELIMINARY   DISCOURSE. 

fallen  into  better  hands  ;  but  notwithstanding  this  I 
venture  to  congratulate  myself  on  my  perseverance  ; 
being  well  convinced  that  these  manuscripts  would 
have  remained  a  long  while  buried  from  the  light, 
(1)  and  that  the  author,  always  pressing  onward  in 
his  career,  would  never  have  had  either  the  leisure  or 
the  courage  to  give  himself  up  to  the  ungrateful  task 
of  a  general  revision. 

That  ardor  to  produce  and  that  indifference  about 
publishing,  that  perseverance  in  the  greatest  labors 
and  that  disposition  to  throw  them  aside  at  the  mo- 
ment of  their  completion,  are  phenomena  which  re- 
quire to  be  explained. 

From  the  time  that  Mr.  Bentham  had  found  the 
great  divisions— the  great  leading  classifications,  or 
provinces  of  the  law,  he  began  to  embrace  the  em- 
pire of  legislation  as  a  whole,  and  conceived  the  mag- 
nificent idea  of  treating  it  in  all  its  parts.  He  con- 
sidered it  less  as  composed  of  detached  fields  than  as 
forming  one  single  field.  He  had  before  him  a  ge- 
neral chart  of  the  science,  and  had  formed  upon  this 
model  the  particular  charts  of  the  several  depart- 
ments. Thus,  the  most  striking  characteristic  of  his 
writings  is  their  perfect  concordance  with  each  other. 
I  found  the  earliest  full  of  references  to  treatises  that 
wrere  only  planned  at  the  time,  but  of  which  the  di- 
visions, the  forms,  and  the  principal  ideas  were  al- 
ready marked  out.  It  is  thus  that  having  arranged  all 
his  matters  by  a  general  plan  ;  every  branch  of  legis- 
lation occupies  its  own  particular  place,  and  none  is 
found  occupying  more  than  one  place  in  the  system. 
Such  order  necessarily  argues  an  author  who  has  con- 
sidered his  subject  for  a  long  while,  and  under  a  vari- 
ety of  aspects,  who  comprehends  it  thoroughly,  and 
who  has  no  puerile  impatience  for  renown. 

(1)  Bentham  himself  says  that  they  never  would  have  seen  the  light, 
but  for  Dumont.  See  pages  64  and  153.  See  Sketch  of  Dumont  and  the 
Familiar  Anecdotes. 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  179 

I  have  seen  him  throw  by  a  work  that  was  nearly 
finished,  and  compose  another,  to  assure  himself  of 
the  truth  of  a  single  proposition,  which  appeared 
doubtful  to  him.  A  problem  in  finances  has  led  him 
back  over  the  whole  field  of  political  economy.  (2) 
Some  questions  of  procedure  have  made  him  feel  the 
necessity  of  suspending  a  work  till  he  had  treated  of 
the  organization  of  a  judiciary.  All  this  preparatory 
labour — this  labour  in  the  mine,  is  immense.  With- 
out a  view  of  the  manuscripts  themselves,  the  cata- 
logues and  the  synoptical  tables,  no  idea  could  be 
formed  of  it. 

But  I  am  not  writing  a  panegyric  ;  and  I  must  ac- 
knowledge that  the  care  of  arranging  and  of  polish- 
ing has  few  attractions  for  the  peculiar  genius  of  the 
author.  So  long  as  he  is  impelled  by  the  energy  that 
creates,  he  feels  nothing  but  the  pleasure  of  compo- 
sition ;  but  if  he  pauses  to  give  shape  and  form,  to 
re-digest,  and  to  finish,  he  feels  nothing  but  weari- 
ness. Let  his  work  be  interrupted,  and  the  mischief 
is  incurable;  the  charm  disappears  ;  it  is  succeeded  by 
disgust;  and  he  is  only  to  be  excited  by  a  new  object. 
The  same  disposition  has  prevented  him  from  con- 
tributing to  the  digest  that  I  now  offer  to  the  public : 
it  is  but  rarely  that  I  have  been  able  to  obtain  either 
the  explanations  or  the  aid  that  I  have  needed,  ft 
would  have  been  too  great  a  sacrifice  to  stop  in  the 
middle  of  his  career  arid  return  upon  the  footsteps  of 
a  period  long  gone  by. 

But  it  is  perhaps  to  this  very  difficulty  that  I  owe 
my  own  perseverance.  If  I  had  only  had  to  trans- 
late, I  should  have  grown  weary  of  the  task  ;  but 
being  left  to  proceed  as  I  thought  proper  with  the 
manuscripts,  I  have  been  stimulated  by  an  illusion 
that  lasted  as  long  as  it  could  be  of  any  use,  and  was 
only  dissipated  by  the  completion  of  the  work. 

(2)   See  p.  25,  where  the  anecdote  is  told  of  him  about  writing  a  book  in 
reply  to  a  note  from  the  British  minister.     It  originated  in  this  fact. 


180  PRELIMINARY  DISCOURSE. 

I  know  not  how  to  give  a  better  general  idea  of  this 
collection  than  by  a  naked  enumeration  of  the  trea- 
tises out  of  which  it  has  been  composed. 

*1.  General  Principles  of  Legislation. 

*2.  Principles  of  Civil  and  Criminal  Jurisprudence. 

*3.  Theory  of  Punishment. 

*4    Penal  Code. 

*5    Theory  of  Reward. 

6.  Judiciary  Organization. 

7.  Procedure  Code. 

1.  Evidence  ;  2.  Of  the  ends  to  be  had  in  view  ; 
3.  Of  the  successive  judicial  steps  from  the  com- 
mencement of  an  action  to  the  execution  of  the  sen- 
tence ;  4.  Examination  of  Jury  trial. 

*8.  Manual  of  Political  economy. 

*9.  Tactics  of  Deliberative  Assemblies  ;  that  is  to 
say,  principles  that  are  to  be  observed  in  the  passing 
of  a  law,  &c.  in  a  political  assembly  ;  of  proposing, 
of  deliberating,  of  voting  and  of  deciding. 

Besides  these  principal  works,  there  are  others  less 
considerable,  some  of  which  indeed  are  nothing  but 
pamphlets. 

*1.  Critical  Examination  of  the  Declaration  of  the 
Rights  of  Man. 

*2.  Of  the  circumstances  of  time  and  place  to  be 
considered  in  the  framing  of  laws. 

3.  Of  offences  against  religion  :  offences  commit- 
ted by  the  abuse  of  the  religious  sanction. 

4.  Of  invention  in  the  matter  of  Legislation. 
*5.  Of  the  Panopticon;  a  house  of  central-inspec- 
tion to  supersede  the  common  prisons. 

*6.  Of  the  promulgation  of  the  Jaws,  and  of  a  pro- 
mulgation separated  from  the  rationale  of  the  laws.  (3) 

(3)  The  works  designated  by  an  asterisk  in  this  catalogue  have  all  been 
published,  some  in  three  volumes,  and  others  separately.  The  Theory  of 
Punishments  and  Rewards  appeared  at  London  in  two  vols.  in  1811,* 
and  is  now  reprinting  for  Messrs.  Bossange  at  Paris.  The  Manual  of  Poli- 

*  In  French — it  haa  never  been  translated  into  English ;  nor  should  it  be  without  the 
corrections  of  the  author.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  181 

It  may  appear  extraordinary  that  in  so  vast  an  as- 
semblage there  is  to  be  found  no  work  upon  politi- 
cal constitutions  or  forms  of  government.  (4)  Does 
the  author  regard  the  form  as  indifferent,  or  does 
he  think  that  there  is  no  arriving  at  certainty  on 
the  subject  of  political  powers  ?  Such  an  opinion 
would  not  be  very  likely  to  exist  in  the  mind  of  an 
English  Philosopher,  and  I  may  venture  to  say  that 
it  certainly  does  not  in  the  mind  of  Mr.  Bentham. 
But  he  is  very  far  from  attaching  an  exclusive  prefer- 
ence to  any  form  of  government.  He  thinks  the  best 
constitution  for  a  people  is  that  to  which  they  are 
accustomed;  (5)  that  happiness  is  the  only  end,  the 

tical  Economy  is  incorporated  with  the  Theory  of  Rewards,  of  which  it 
forms  the  fourth  book,  under  the  title  of  Encouragements  (par  rapport  a)  for 
industry  and  commerce.  The  Tactics  of  Deliberative  Assemblies  and  of 
Political  Fallacies,  appeared  at  Geneva  in  1816,  in  two  volumes  ;  I  have 
placed  it  as  an  appendix  to  the  Critical  Examination  of  the  Declaration  of  the 
Rights  of  Man.  D. 

(4)  Here  M.  Dumont  alludes  only  to  the  manuscripts  he  had  collected. 
Mr.  Bentham  had  not  then  come  to  the  political  division  of  his  labour.     His 
Constitutional  Code,  his  letters  on  the  subject  of  checks  and  balances  have 
since  appeared  ;   and  they  go  to  the  substance,  not  merely  to  the  forms  of  li- 
berty.   N. 

(5)  Mr.  Bentham  did  think  so  ;   but  his  views  are  altered,  and  he  is  now 
altogether  and  most  decidedly  in  favour  of  a  republic.     There  was  a  time  to 
be  sure,  when,  looking  to  the  mischief  that  had  been  produced  by  change, 
overthrow  and  experiment,  he  was  ready  to  say — 

•For  forms  of  Government  let  fools  contest ; 
That  which  is  best  administered  is  best.' 

Of  late  however  he  appeals  to  the  growth  and  history  of  our  United-Republics, 
and  has  been  most  zealously  and  effectually  employed  in  giving  Constitution- 
al governments  to  Europe  and  to  America.  Little  do  we  know  here,  what  he 
and  his  have  done  for  the^  liberties  of  our  age.  His  counsels  have  been  heard 
throughout  Europe,  and  the  greatest  statesmen  of  the  day  are  among  his  disci- 
ples. It  may  be  doubted  however  whether  he  is  not  going  too  far  now.  It 
does  not  appear  very  evident  to  me  that  a  republican  form  of  government 
would  suit  every  people.  They  must  be  prepared  for  it,  educated  for  it ;  and 
they  must  be  surrounded  with  republican  neighbours  or  separated  from  danger 
by  impassable  barriers  ;  or  how  are  they  to  carry  through  their  experiments 
in  safety  ?  There  is  more  distinctness  and  more  energy  in  a  despotism  ;  and 
if  the  United  States  were  transplanted  to  the  centre  of  Europe,  and  surrounded 
as  the  states  of  Europe  are,  by  ambitious,  quarrelsome  and  warlike  neighbours, 
they  would  probably  soon  cease  to  be  a  republic.  They  would  have  to  esta- 
blish fortresses,  to  keep  large  armies  afoot,  to  augment  the  power  and  stability 
of  their  executive,  and  gradually,  as  they  would  be  exposed  to  the  intrigue  of 
every  neighbouring  power,  they  would  be  obliged,  like  Germany  and  Poland, 
either  to  withdraw  the  election  from  the  hands  of  the  many  or  to  render  it  less 


182  PRELIMINARY   DISCOURSE. 

only  object  of  intrinsic  worth,  and  that  political  liber- 
ty is  but  a  relative  good  as  one  of  the  means  to  that 
end.  He  thinks  that  a  people  with  good  laws,  even 
without  any  political  power,  may  arrive  at  a  high  de- 
gree of  happiness ;  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  with 
the  greatest  political  power,  if  they  have  bad  laws, 
they  will  be  necessarily  unhappy. 

The  fundamental  vice  of  theories  upon  political 
constitutions  is,  that  people  begin  by  attacking  those 
which  exist,  and  alarming  the  jealousy  of  established 
power — a  disposition  not  favourable  to  the  improve- 
ment of  the  laws. 

The  only  time  for  attempting  with  success,  any 
great  reform  in  legislation,  is  that  when  the  public 
mind  is  calm,  and  the  government  enjoys  the  greatest 
degree  of  stability. 

The  object  of  Mr.  Bentham  in  looking  for  the 
cause  of  our  greatest  evils  in  the  laws  themselves,  has 
been  to  escape  the  greatest  of  all  evils,  the  overthrow 
of  authority,  the  revolution  of  property  and  power. 
The  actual  government  is  in  fact  the  instrument 
wherewith  he  endeavours  to  work;  (6)  and  in  show- 
ing to  all  governments  the  way  to  self-improvement, 
he  shows  them  how  to  prolong  their  own  existence. 

frequent.  In  a  word,  the  simplicity  of  a  Republic  would  soon  be  lost :  and  our 
chief-magistrate  would  soon  become,  at  the  best,  but  a  constitutional  king.  And 
so  too,  if  Great  Britain  were  transplanted  to  this  New  World, — there  would  soon 
be  a  great  change  in  the  form  of  her  government.  Her  expenses  would  be  dimi- 
nished, her  standing  armies  would  disappear,  and  her  fleets  and  courts,  and  sine- 
cures would  gradually  drop  off ;  and  after  a  while,  if  Mexico  did  not  become 
a  bad  neighbour,  and  if  there  were  no  separation  of  her  own  territory,  she 
would  become  either  a  republic  in  form  or  in  fact.  Her  king  would  be  but  a 
president  for  life  (perhaps  not  even  for  life) — with  some  little  additional  power 
and  prerogative.  Would  not  these  be  the  natural  consequences  of  a  change  of 
territory  ?  Let  every  man  judge  for  himself,  and  then  say  whether  any  one 
form  of  government,  even  though  it  be  republican,  would  be  the  best  for 
every  people.  N. 

(6)  Nothing  was  ever  more  true  than  this  ;  and  therefore  should  we  look 
upon  Mr.  Bentham  as  a  philosopher.  He  would  strengthen  the  hands  of  every 
government  on  earth  by  making  it  just,  and  thereby  giving  it  a  hold  upon  the 
affections  of  the  people.  It  were  easier  to  reform  that  which  they  are  accus- 
tomed to,  so  as  to  make  it  the  best  they  could  bear,  than  it  would  be  to  build 
up  one  altogether  new  N. 


PRINCIPLES    OF   LEGISLATION.  183 

His  results  are  applicable  to  monarchies  as  well 
as  to  Republics.  He  does  not  say  to  the  people — 
Lay  hold  upon  the  supreme  authority;  change  the 
form  of  the  State  :  He  says  to  the  governments  of 
the  earth — Understand  the  maladies  that  weaken 
you  ;  study  the  means  of  cure.  Let  your  laws  be 
conformable  to  the  wants  and  the  improvements  of 
the  age. 

Make  good  laws,  civil  and  penal.  Organize  the 
tribunals  of  justice  in  such  a  manner  as  to  inspire  the 
public  with  confidence.  Simplify  procedure.  Avoid 
constraint  and  waste  in  taxation.  Encourage  com- 
merce by  natural  means.  Have  you  not  all  the  same 
interest  in  improving  the  several  branches  of  adminis- 
tration? Appease  the  dangerous  spirit  that  is  spread- 
ing among  the  people,  by  promoting  their  happiness. 
You  have  the  power  of  originating  the  laws,  and  this 
right  alone,  if  judiciously  employed,  might  be  made 
the  safe-guard  of  every  other.  It  is  by  opening  a  ca- 
reer to  legitimate  hope,  that  you  check  the  growth  of 
profligate  hope. 

They  who  look  in  these  writings  for  exclusive  prin- 
ciples, unfavourable  to  this  or  that  particular  form  of 
government  will  be  disappointed;  and  they  who  need 
the  stimulus  of  declamation  or  satire  will  find  nothing 
here  to  satisfy  them.  To  preserve  while  correcting, 
to  study  circumstances,  to  sooth  the  very  prejudices 
of  power ;  to  prepare  innovation  at  a  distance,  so 
that  it  may  not  appear  to  be  innovation;  to  avoid 
violent  changes,  and  the  sudden  shifting  of  property 
and  power;  to  reform  abuses  without  injury  to  actual 
interests,  and  without  disturbing  the  natural  course  of 
habits  and  hopes — such  are  the  objects  and  such  the 
temper  of  the  whole  work. 

The  first  part  of  this  collection,  entitled  the  Gene- 
ral Principles  of  Legislation  is  the  only  one  that  is 
prepared  partly  from  the  manuscripts,  and  partly 
from  a  printed  work  of  the  author.  It  is  a  general 


184  PRELIMINARY  DISCOURSE. 

introduction  which  includes  the  fundamental  princi- 
ples of  all  his  writings.  If  one  is  master  of  that,  all 
the  others  will  appear  but  as  natural  consequences. 
The  title  that  I  should  have  chosen,  but  which  I  have 
forborne  to  give,  in  consequence  of  objections  that 
perhaps  were  well  founded,  is  that  of  Logic  of  Le- 
gislation. It  contains  the  principles  of  reasoning  ;  it 
teaches  how  to  employ  that  principle;  it  furnishes 
new  instruments  of  analysis  and  of  moral  calcula- 
tion. • 

In  the  physical  sciences,  the  discovery  of  a  new 
mode  of  working  is  always  the  commencement 
of  a  new  era.  It  is  thus  that  the  invention  of  the 
telescope,  led  to  the  science  of  astronomy.  In  gene- 
ral when  the  human  mind  stops  long  at  the  same 
point,  it  is  because  it  has  completely  exhausted  its 
means  of  enquiry,  and  is  obliged  to  wait  until  some 
new  instrument  be  discovered  for  extending  its  re- 
searches and  adding  to  its  power. 

But  what  is  properly  an  instrument  in  moral  sci- 
ence ?  It  is  a  means  of  bringing  together  and  of  com- 
paring ideas;  it  is  a  new  method  of  reasoning.  Soc- 
rates had  one  which  was  suited  to  him  and  which  was 
a  sort  of  analysis.  To  this,  Aristotle  added  a  classifi- 
cation :  he  invented  the  structure  of  the  syllogism, 
so  ingenious  and  of  so  little  use.  These  methods  are 
instruments  for  the  reason,  as  the  rule  is  for  the  hand, 
or  the  microscope  for  the  eyes.  When  Bacon  gave  to 
his  great  work  the  singular  title  of  Novum  Organum, 
he  considered  that  philosophical  method  as  a  kind  of 
intellectual  machine,  a  logical  tool  which  would  im- 
prove the  art  of  reasoning  and  assist  in  the  structure 
of  sciences. 

Mr.  Bentham  has  made  for  himself  a  system  of 
logic  which  has  its  principles,  its  tables,  its  catalogues, 
its  classes  and  its  rules;  by  means  of  which  he  appears 
to  me  to  have  converted  into  a  science,  certain  bran- 
ches of  Morals  and  of  Legislation  which  till  his  time 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  185 

had  been  subject  only  to  the  speculations  of  learning, 
of  eloquence,  and  of  wit.  (7) 

The  author  himself  is  very  far  from  thinking  that 
he  owes  nothing  to  his  predecessors. 

All  science  is  necessarily  the  work  of  time.  We 
begin  by  vague  conjectures.  We  observe  a  few  scat- 
tered facts.  We  amass  a  great  store  of  erudition  in 
which  the  true  and  the  false  are  jumbled  together. 
When  in  the  progress  of  events  we  have  collected  a 
great  number  of  facts,  we  begin  to  perceive  analogies  ; 
we  try  to  reduce  them  to  a  system.  The  reign  of 
imagination  and  wit  precedes  that  of  reason  and  sci- 
ence. It  was  for  Descartes  to  prepare  ingenious  ro- 
mances about  general  nature,  before  Newton  could 
subject  it  to  certain  laws ;  for  Leibnitz  and  Male- 
braiiche  to  conjure  up  their  shadowy  metaphysics,  be- 
fore Locke  settled  the  first  facts  that  now  serve  for  a 
foundation  to  that  science.  Plato  and  Aristotle  pre- 
ceded Bodin,  Grotius,  Harrington,  Hobbes  and  Puf- 
fendorff,  all  of  whom  were  but  preparatory  to  the 
Spirit  of  Laws;  and  the  Spirit  of  Laws  itself  is  but 
intermediate  to  the  point  where  Legislation  is  to  be- 
come a  complete  and  simple  system. 

The  author,  in  an  interesting  essay,  has  indicated 
the  progress  and  the  origin  of  his  principal  ideas. 

*  It  is  not,'  says  he,  '  in  the  books  of  law  that  I 
have  found  the  means  of  invention,  or  the  models  of 
method  ;  it  is  rather  in  works  on  metaphysics,  on 
physics,  on  natural  history  and  on  medicine.  In 
reading  some  modern  treatises  of  the  latter  I  was 
struck  by  the  classification  of  mischiefs  and  remedies. 
Might  we  not  carry  the  same  order  into  legislation  ? 
Might  not  the  body  politic  have  its  anatomy,  its  phy- 
siology, its  nosology,  its  materia  medico,  ?  What  I 
have  found  in  the  Treboniuns,  the  Coccejiis,  the  Black- 
stones,  the  Vattels,  the  Pothiers,  the  Domats  is  very 

(7)  Here  we  have  a  sample  of  the  rhetoric  of  the  author.  Branches  are 
converted  into  a  Science. 

24 


186  PRELIMINARY  DISCOURSE. 

little  :  Hume,  Helvetius,  Linnaeus,  Bergman,  Cullen, 
have  been  more  useful  to  me.' 

In  the  very  outset,  it  was  necessary  to  find  some 
one  general  principle  which  might  be  fixed,  and  to 
which  the  whole  process  of  reasoning  might  refer. 
This  fixed  principle  he  denominated  the  Principle  of 
Utility.  But  to  do  only  this  was  to  do  nothing  ;  for 
every  body  would  give  the  name  of  utility  to  what- 
ever pleased  him ;  and  nothing  is  ever  done,  nothing 
ever  proposed  by  any  body  without  a  view  to  utility 
— either  real  or  imaginary.  It  was  necessary  there- 
fore to  give  to  the  term  a  precise  signification  ;  and 
that  was  a  new  task. 

The  author  afterwards  separated  this  true  principle 
from  two  false  principles  which  were  associated  with 
it,  and  which  are  the  ground-work  of  all  the  erroneous 
systems  of  Morals  and  Legislation,  that  are  known. 
By  means  of  one  single  distinction,  easy  to  be  compre- 
hended, we  are  enabled  to  separate  truth  from  error 
with  a  degree  of  ease  and  certainty  hitherto  without 
example. 

To  get  a  precise  knowledge  of  the  principles  of 
utility,  it  became  necessary  to  exhibit  all  the  pleasures 
and  all  the  pains,  in  a  table  ;  for  they  are  the  first  ele- 
ments— the  figures  which  are  to  be  employed  in  a 
moral  calculation.  As  in  arithmetic,  we  proceed  upon 
numbers,  the  value  of  which  it  is  necessary  to  under- 
stand, so  in  legislation  we  are  to  work  with  pains  and 
pleasures,  the  value  of  which  it  is  necessary  to  have 
exactly  estimated. 

After  this,  a  method  was  to  be  contrived  for  measur- 
ing the  value  of  a  lot  of  pleasures  or  of  pains  for  the 
purpose  of  comparing  them  together  with  accuracy. 
Here  an  error  would  be  of  the  greatest  consequence. 
The  calculation  goes  back  to  the  first  operations  in 
arithmetic.  To  know  the  worth  of  an  action,  we 
have  only  to  add  together  all  the  pleasures  or  advan- 
tages which  result  from  it ;  and  then  to  add  together 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  187 

all  the  pains  or  disadvantages;  and  to  subtract  the 
smaller  sum  from  the  larger. 

But  as  the  sensibility  of  mankind  is  not  uniform, 
and  as  the  same  objects  affect  them  more  or  less, 
and  even  differently,  the  calculation  is  to  be  qualified 
by  a  new  element. 

Age,  education,  rank,  fortune,  religion,  climate, 
sex,  and  many  other  causes  have  a  decided  and  con- 
stant influence.  It  was  therefore  necessary  to  frame 
an  exact  table  of  the  circumstances  which  cause  the 
sensibility  of  men  to  vary,  for  the  purpose  of  accommo- 
dating the  means  of  legislation  as  far  as  possible  to 
the  diversity  of  their  impressions. 

By  calculating  the  advantages  and  the  disadvanta- 
ges of  an  act,  it  was  no  difficult  thing  to  find  the  true 
character  of  an  offence  ;  but  the  true  character  being 
had,  the  exact  heinousness  or  gravity  was  to  be  esti- 
mated. And  that  is  what  the  author  has  done  by 
analyzing  the  progress  or  march  of  an  evil — that  is 
to  say,  by  observing  how  it  affects  individuals,  how 
it  spreads  from  the  first  sufferer  to  others,  and  how  it 
is  lessened  in  some  cases  and  aggravated  in  others 
by  participation. 

Having  established  these  principles,  whereby  the 
gravity  of  offences  might  be  weighed,  he  contrived  a 
classification  as  new  as  it  was  abundant.  By  this 
classification  we  are  enabled  to  see  at  a  glance  what 
they  have  in  common,  and  in  what  they  differ:  we 
discover  some  general  ^maxims  which  apply  without 
exception  to  such  and  such  kinds  of  crime.  Chaos 
is  no  more.... light  spreads,  and  we  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  plan  of  the  Legislator.  I  might  multiply  such  ex- 
amples ;  but  these  are  sufficient  to  explain  what  I 
understand  by  logical  instruments,  which,  though  ne- 
cessary to  legislation,  have  nevertheless  been  wanting 
till  the  present  time.  This  analysis,  these  catalogues, 
these  classifications,  while  they  help  us  to  work  with 
certainty,  are  a  check  upon  our  oversights,  a  hin- 


188  PRELIMINARY   DISCOURSE. 

drance  to  our  going  astray  from  first  principles,  and 
serve  to  render  the  solution  of  the  most  difficult 
problems  mechanical.  It  is  in  this  way  that  in  run- 
ning over  the  table  of  chemical  affinities,  the  physi- 
cian preserves  the  connexion  of  his  thoughts  and  saves 
time  by  the  promptitude  of  his  comparisons  and  re- 
collections. 

Uniformity  of  weights  and  measures  might  serve 
as  an  object  of  comparison  for  giving  a  better  idea  of 
Mr.  Bentham's  object.  He  felt  the  necessity  of  es- 
tablishing an  invariable  principle,  which  might  serve 
as  the  foundation  for  a  common  measure  in  morals, 
and  which  would  give  the  uniformity  required  by  the 
most  important  and  most  difficult  problem  in  philoso- 
phy- 

What  I  call  the  Variety  of  weights  and  measures  in 

morals  is  the  double  diversity  which  exists,  the  one 
in  the  judgments  of  men  upon  actions  reputed  good 
or  evil,  the  other  in  the  principles  themselves,  upon 
which  those  judgments  are  founded.  Hence  it  is  that 
human  actions  have  no  fixed  and  authentic  rate  of 
value,  and  that  the  moral  estimate  varies  with  every 
people  and  with  every  class ;  and  that  having  no  com- 
mon rule  to  refer  to;  those  who  happen  to  agree  are 
always  ready  to  disagree,  while  those  who  disagree 
have  little  chance  of  being  reconciled  ;  each  having 
but  his  own  authority  to  help  him,  cannot  hope  to  pre- 
vail over  his  adversary,  and  a  reciprocal  accusation 
of  obstinacy  or  bad  faith,  terminates  almost  always 
a  controversy  of  opinion,  by  provoking  mutual  an- 
tipathy. 

If  there  exists,  as  we  cannot  doubt  there  does,  a 
common-interest  among  the  community  of  nations, 
and  throughout  the  whole  human  family  ; — to  discover 
a  uniform  system  of  weights  and  measures  in  morals 
is  to  discover  that  common-interest;  and  the  work  of 
the  legislator  would  consist  in  giving  it  effect  by  the 
sanction  of  penalties  and  rewards. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  189 

That  common-interest  will  not  be  discovered  but  by 
the  profound  enquirer  into  the  human  heart.  As  we 
seek  for  physical  truth  among  the  phenomena  of  na- 
ture, so  must  we  seek  for  moral  truth  among  the 
opinions  of  men.  An  experimental  search  of  this 
kind,  methodically  pursued,  would  give  birth  to  two 
new  sciences;  one  of  which  Mr.  Bentham  calls  Men- 
tal Pathology,  the  other  Intellectual  Dynamics. 

JUental  pathology  relates  to  the  sensibility  of  man 
considered  as  a  passive  being,  that  is  to  say,  as  sub- 
ject to  the  influence  of  various  objects,  which  cause 
in  him  the  various  sensations  either  of  pain  or  plea- 
sure. The  author  has  laid  the  foundations  of  the  sci- 
ence in  the  catalogue  of  pleasures  and  pains,  and  in 
that  of  the  circumstances  that  influence  the  sensibili- 
ty of  man. 

Dynamics  is  the  science  of  moving  forces;  and  in- 
tellectual dynamics  would  therefore  be  the  science  that 
teaches  the  means  of  operating  upon  the  active  facul- 
ties of  man.  The  object  of  the  legislator  being 
to  guide  the  conduct  of  the  people,  he  ought  to  under- 
stand all  the  springs  of  the  will — he  ought  to  study 
the  simple  and  compound  power  of  all  the  motives  ; 
he  ought  to  know  how  to  regulate  them,  to  combine 
them,  to  counteract  them,  to  augment  and  to  lessen 
their  power  at  pleasure.  These  are  the  levers,  the  pow- 
ers, which  he  will  have  to  make  use  of,  in  the  execu- 
tion of  his  plans. 

In  medicine,  these  two  sciences  have  a  marked  cor- 
respondence. We  are  to  study  first  the  passive  be- 
ing, the  physical  state  of  man,  and  all  the  variations 
which  occur  in  the  living  machine,  from  the  influence 
either  of  external  or  internal  causes.  We  are  after- 
wards to  understand  the  active  principles,  the  powers 
which  reside  in  organization,  so  as  not  to  counteract 
them,  to  keep  down  such  as  are  hurtful,  and  to  stimu- 
late such  as  are  likely  to  lead  to  useful  changes. 

Considering  the  work  as  a  whole,  it  appears  to  me 


190  PRELIMINARY   DISCOURSE. 

to  contain  a  necessary  remedy  for  two  kinds  of  polit- 
ical poison,  one  of  which  is  distributed  by  the  Scepti- 
cal, the  other  the  Dogmatical. 

I  understand  by  the  Sceptical,  those  who  hold  that 
there  are  no  fixed  and  universal  principles  in  legisla- 
tion, that  all  is  conjectural,  that  tradition  is  the  only 
guide,  that  we  must  leave  the  laws  as  they  are,  and 
that,  in  a  word,  political  writers  are  but  a  dangerous 
kind  of  romance  writers,  who  are  able  to  overthrow, 
but  are  not  able  to  build  up, — there  being  no  founda- 
tion of  moral  certainty. 

This  discouraging  doctrine,  so  flattering  to  egotism 
and  to  indolence,  is  only  supported  by  vague  ideas 
and  badly-defined  terms :  for  when  we  have  stated 
the  whole  object  of  the  laws  in  one  single  expression 
— the  prevention  of  evil — it  results,  That  as  human  na- 
ture is  the  same  everywhere,  (8)  subject  to  the  same 
ills  and  directed  by  the  same  motives,  there  ought  to 
be  some  general  principles  which  would  serve  for  the 
ground-work  of  science.  What  has  been  done  proves 
what  may  be  done.  Has  not  the  empire  of  evil  been 
subdued  in  part,  and  narrowed  and  weakened  by  the 
successful  inroads  of  prudence  and  experience  ?  Have 
we  not  seen  legislation  following,  with  slow  steps,  the 
progress  of  civilization,  developing  its  powers,  soften- 
ing its  aspects,  acknowledging  its  mistakes — and  me- 
liorated by  time  ?  And  why  should  errors  in  that  ca- 
reer prove  more  numerous  than  in  others  ? 

All  the  arts,  all  the  sciences  have  had  the  same 
gradations  to  go  through.  True  philosophy  is  but 
lately  born.  Locke  was  the  first  who  applied  it  to 
the  study  of  man  ;  Beccaria  to  some  branches  of  le- 
gislation ;  and  Mr.  Bentham  to  a  whole  system.  In 
the  condition  of  the  science  now,  provided  with  new 
instruments,  with  definitions,  with  nomenclatures,  with 
classifications,  and  with  methods,  we  must  no  longer 

(8)  See  Chapter  on  Utility,   p.  139,  where  the  Rev.  Mr.  Colton's  discovery 
is  mentioned.     N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  191 

compare  it  with  what  it  was  in  the  day  of  its  feeble- 
ness, poverty,  and  uncertainty,  when  there  was  not 
even  a  general  division,  when  the  different  parts  were 
confounded  together,  and  when  offences,  the  first  ele- 
ments of  law,  were  piled  away  under  the  most  vague 
denominations. 

As  to  the  Dogmatical,  they  form  a  variety  of  sects, 
and  consequently  of  hostile  sects;  but  in  politics  they 
are  all  inspired.  They  believe,  they  command  oth- 
ers to  believe,  and  they  do  not  vouchsafe  to  reason. 
They  have  their  professions  of  faith  and  their  ma- 
gical words — such  as  equality,  liberty,  passive-obe- 
dience, divine  right,  rights-of-man,  political-justice, 
natural-law,  social-contracts.  They  have  unlimited 
maxims,  universal  rules  for  government,  which  they 
apply  without  distinction,  to  the  past  and  to  the  pre- 
sent— since  from  the  elevated  station  they  occupy, 
they  are  accustomed  to  look,  not  upon  the  individual 
but  upon  the  species  ;  and  the  happiness  of  one  gene- 
ration ought  not  to  weigh  against  a  sublime  theory. 
Their  impatience  to  act  is  in  proportion  to  their  in- 
capability of  doubting,  and  their  intrepid  vanity  leads 
them  to  employ  as  much  violence  in  what  they  do, 
as  there  is  of  despotism  in  what  they  think. 

Nothing  can  be  more  opposite  to  such  a  dogmatical 
and  peremptory  mode  of  procedure  than  the  system  of 
Mr.  Bentham.  He  was  the  first  to  arrange  sympa- 
thies and  antipathies  among  the  false  principles  of 
reasoning,  and  teach  a  process  of  moral-arithmetic, 
whereby  all  the  pains  and  all  the  pleasures,  and  all  the 
circumstances  that  influence  the  sensibility  are  calcu- 
lated ;  to  tolerate  no  law  which  was  unaccompanied 
with  its  rationale  ;  to  refute  all  the  fallacies  by  which 
present  and  individual  interests  were  to  be  sacrificed 
to  distant  and  abstract  interests.  In  fine  he  it  is  who 
would  not  suffer  the  smallest  atom  of  evil  to  fall  upon 
the  head  of  the  most  abandoned  malefactor,  but  on 
the  ground  of  well-considered  necessity.  And  he  is 


192  PRELIMINARY  DISCOURSE. 

so  far  from  being  arbitrary,  so  satisfied  that  we  can- 
not hope  to  provide  for  everything,  that  in  treating  of 
the  laws  which  are  regarded  by  him  as  the  best,  and 
most  indisputably  good,  he  refuses  to  make  them  per- 
manent for  a  fixed  period — to  encroach  upon  the 
rights  of  posterity.  His  system,  which  is  always  mo- 
derate and  always  accompanied  by  a  rationale,  wears 
a  less  imposing  look  therefore,  and  appears  to  be  en- 
dowed with  less  energy  than  those  of  more  dogmatical 
writers.  (*)  He  does  not  flatter  that  slothful  tem- 
per which  would  learn  every  thing  by  a  formula  or 
concentrate  everything  in  a  few  brilliant  phrases  ;  he 
may  be  unattractive  to  such  as  love  not  the  slow  ope- 
ration of  the  scales  and  dividers  ;  and  he  will  be  sure 
to  stir  up  the  infallibles,  by  exposing  the  emptiness  of 
their  magisterial  talk.  '  How  many  things  in  a  law .?' 
said  he,  on  finishing  his  introduction.  And  assuredly 
we  shall  not  have  comprehended  him,  nor  profited 
by  his  principles,  if  we  do  not  also  exclaim  after 
going  through  his  great  work — How  many  things  in  a 
law  ! 

However  great  may  be  the  influence  therefore  to  be 
expected  from  his  writings,  it  is  not  probable  that  they 
will  become  popular.  They  teach-  a  new  science ; 
but  they  teach  also  the  difficulties  of  a  new  science. 
They  give  certainty  to  the  labours  of  judgment ;  but 
they  exact  a  studious  reflection.  To  accomplish  their 
purpose,  disciples  are  needed  ;  but  unhappily  for  the 
great  work,  teachers  only  are  to  be  met  with  in  the 
science  of  legislation. 

Fortunate  are  they,  whom  the  study  of  this  shall 
render  more  circumspect  and  slow  in  production. 
Their  meditations  being  concentrated  for  a  long  time, 
will  acquire  substance  and  strength. 

Facility  is  the  snare  of  ordinary  minds.  No  great 
thing  is  produced  with  ease.  Meteors,  that  are  light- 
ed up  in  the  sudden  combustion  of  the  atmosphere, 

*   Plus  fecit  quijudicium  dbstulit  quam  qui  meruit.     Sen.    D. 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  193 

may  dazzle  for  a  moment — but  it  is  only  for  a  mo- 
ment— and  they  pass  away  forever,  and  leave  no  trace 
of  their  path.  He  who  distrusts  his  first  conceptions 
and  does  not  evaporate  too  soon,  fortifies  his  talent  by 
all  that  he  withholds  from  the  indulgence  of  precipi- 
tate vanity  ;  and  the  respect  that  he  shows  for  the 
judgment  of  the  enlightened  is  a  sure  guarantee  of 
his  own  merit.  (9) 

(9)  The  passage  from  Dumont  reads  thus.  I  preserve  it  merely  to  show, 
out  of  his  own  mouth,  how  entirely  he  deserves  what  I  have  said  of  him  in  a 
previous  note.  He  is  aiming  at  a  simile — and  at  a  sort  of  antithesis  at  the  same 
time — and  he  misses  both. 

'  La  facilite  est  le  pi^ge  des  hommes  mediocres  et  ne  produit  jamais  rien  de 
grand.  Ces  metcores,  cr  ations  subites  d'une  atmosph  re  inflammf  e  brillent 
un  instant  et  s'tteignent  sans  laisser  de  trace.  Mais  celui  qui  se  defie  de  ses 
premi'-re-s  conceptions,  et  qui  ne  s'tvapore  pas  de  bonne  heure,  donne  £  son 
talent  tout  re  qu'il  refuse  aux  jouissances  pr  coces  de  la  vnnite;  et  ce  respect 
qu'il  t'moigne  pour  le  jugement  des  hommes  eclair  s,  est  un  garant  sur  de  celui 
qu'il  meritera  pour  lui-meme.'  N. 


25 


DUMONT'S      BENTHAM.    (0 


CHAPTER    I. 

OF       THE       PRINCIPLE     *OF       UTILITY. 

THE  happiness  of  the  people  ought  to  be  the  aim 
of  the  Legislator  ;  general  utility  ought  to  be  the  prin- 
ciple of  reasoning  in  legislation.  To  know  what  is 
good  for  the  community  whose  welfare  is  at  stake, 
constitutes  the  science  ;  to  find  the  means  of  produc- 
ing that  good,  constitutes  the  art. 

The  principle  of  Utility,  (2)  when  vaguely  taught, 
provokes  little  contradiction  ;  it  is  even  regarded  as 
a  common  field  in  morals  and  in  politics.  But  this 
almost  universal  assent  is  only  apparent.  People  do 
not  all  attach  the  same  ideas  to  the  word;  they  do 
not  all  give  it  the  same  value  ;  and  from  it  there  is 
therefore  no  consequent  and  uniform  flow  of  reason- 
ing. 

(1)  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  our  law-makers  and  criminal  legislators  will  read 
these  papers — if  nothing  more.     They  are  beginning  to  be  understood  by  the 
people  :    and  what  is  more,  they  are  beginning  to  be  relished  by  them.     It  is 
no  longer  necessary  to  repeat  the  propositions  wherewith  I  began,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  Utility  and   the  great  Teacher  of  Utility,  Jeremy  Bentham, 
thoroughly  understood  by  my  countrymen — all  of  whom  are  now,  or  hereafter 
may  be  called  upon  to  apply  a  portion  of  the  knowledge  they  have  insensibly 
acquired    from  his  writings,  not  only  in   the  familiar,  every-day  duties  of  life, 
but  in  the  more  solemn  and  affecting  ones  that  occur  but  rarely  to  the  father, 
the  citizen,  the  judge,  the  law-maker  and  the  preacher.    N. 

(2)  The  idea  of  calling  the  law  of  utility,  or  the  doctrine  of  utility  a 
principle,  is  not  very  satisfactory.     Nor  does  the  after-definition  help  it.     N. 


196  DUMONT'S    BENTHAM. 

To  give  to  it  all  the  efficacy  of  which  it  is  capable 
— in  other  words,  to  make  it  the  foundation  of  gene- 
ral reasoning,  there  are  three  conditions  to  be  ful- 
filled. 

The  first  is  to  attach  to  the  word  utility  clear  and 
precise  ideas,  which  shall  be  exactly  the  same  with 
all  who  make  use  of  it. 

The  second  is  to  establish  the  unity — the  sovereign- 
ty of  this  principle,  by  rigorously  excluding  from  it, 
whatever  does  not  belong  to  it.  It  is  not  enough  to 
subscribe  to  it  generally  ;  there  must  be  no  exception 
whatever. 

The  third  is  to  find  a  process  of  moral  arithmetic, 
by  which  we  may  always  arrive  at  uniform  results. 

The  cause  of  dissent  may  be  referred  to  two  false 
principles,  which  operate  sometimes  with  a  concealed, 
sometimes  with  an  open  influence  upon  the  judgments 
of  men.  Were  we  able  to  indicate  and  exclude 
them,  the  true  principle  would  remain  by  itself  in  its 
purity  and  strength. 

These  three  principles  are  like  three  different 
roads;  which,  while  but  one  leads  to  the  true  place, 
are  continually  crossing  each  other.  Where  is  the 
traveller  who  has  not  wandered  from  one  to  another, 
and  lost  much  time  and  strength  in  trying  to  discover 
the  right?  The  true  road,  however,  is  the  shortest 
road  ;  mile-stones  are  found  in  it  which  cannot  be 
transposed,  and  ineflfaeable  directions  in  a  universal 
language;  and  this  while  the  other  two  abound  in 
contradictory  directions  inscribed  in  enigmatical  cha- 
racters. But  not  to  deceive  with  the  language  of  al- 
legory, let  us  try  to  give  clear  ideas  upon  the  true 
principle,  and  the  false  principles. 

Nature  has  subjected  man  to  the  dominion  of  plea- 
sure and  pnin.  To  them  we  are  indebted  for  all  our 
ideas.  To  them  we  refer  all  our  opinions,  and  every 
judgment  we  give.  He  who  pretends  to  be  free  from 
their  influence,  knows  not  what  he  says ;  at  the 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  197 

very  instant  when  he  appears  to  avoid  the  greatest 
pleasure,  and  to  seek  the  greatest  pain,  his  ultimate 
object  is  to  find  pleasure  and  avoid  pain.  Th  s  eter- 
nal and  irresistible  propensity  ought  to  be  the  chief 
study  of  the  moralist  and  the  legislator.  The  princi- 
ple of  utility  refers  every  thing  to  these  two  motives. 
Utility  is  an  abstract  term.  It  expresses  the  suita- 
bleness, or  the  tendency  of  a  thing  to  preserve  from 
some  evil,  or  to  procure  some  good.  Evil  is  pain,  or 
the  cause  of  pain.  Good  is  pleasure,  or  the  cause  of 
pleasure.  What  is  conformable  to  utility,  or  to  the 
interest  of  an  individual,  is  whatever  tends  to  aug- 
ment the  sum-total  of  his  happiness.  What  is  con- 
formable to  utility,  or  to  the  interest  of  a  community, 
is  whatever  tends  to  augment  the  sum -total  of  the 
happiness  of  the  individual  composing  that  commu- 
nity. (3) 

A  principle  is  a  first  idea,  which  we  take  for  the 
commencement  or  foundation  of  our  reasoning.  Or 
to  make  it  more  sensible  to  the  understanding,  it  may 
be  regarded  as  a  fixed  object  to  which  the  first  link 
of  a  chain  is  attached.  The  principle  should  be  evi- 
dent. To  cause  it  to  be  received  for  truth,  it  should 
be  enough  to  explain  it.  It  is  like  an  axiom  in  math- 
ematics; it  need  not  be  formally  proved ;  it  is  enough 
to  show  that  by  rejecting  it  we  fall  into  absurdity. 

The  logic  of  utility  consists  in  setting  out  from  the 
calculation  or  comparison  of  pains  with  pleasures  in 
all  the  operations  of  the  judgment,  and  in  excluding 
every  other  idea. 

I  am  a  partizan  of  the  principle  of  utility,  when  I 
measure  my  approbation  or  my  disapprobation  of  an 

(3)  But  we  are  not  to  infer  from  this,  that  always  and  at  every  moment  of 
time,  apparent  individual  good,  and  the  general  good  are  so  inseparably  the 
same,  that  whatever  promotes  the  one,  must  promote  the  other.  Perhaps  A. 
being  poor  might  be  happier,  if  he  were  allowed  to  help  himself  out  of  the  su- 
perfluous wealth  of  B.  But  the  community  would  suffer  more  than  A.  would 
enjoy  ;  and  so  in  the  long  run,  perhaps  in  the  next  breath,  would  A.  himself, 
since  others  would  have  the  same  right  to  partake  of  his  superfluity,  and  to 
judge  for  themselves  in  what  it  consisted.  N. 


198  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

act,  whether  public  or  private,  by  its  tendency  to  pro- 
duce pains  and  pleasures ;  when  I  employ  the  terms 
just,  unjust,  moral,  immoral,  good,  bad,  as  collective 
terms,  which  express  ideas  of  certain  pleasures,  or  of 
certain  pains,  without  any  other  meaning.  Be  it  un- 
derstood that  I  take  the  words  pain  and  pleasure  in 
their  common  acceptation,  without  inventing  arbitra- 
ry definitions,  either  to  exclude  certain  pleasures;  or 
to  deny  certain  pains.  No  subtilitj',  no  metaphys- 
ics ;  we  need  not  consult  Plato  nor  Aristotle.  Pain 
and  pleasure  are  what  every  body  feels  them  to  be  ; 
the  peasant  as  well  as  the  prince,  the  uneducated-man 
as  well  as  the  philosopher. 

To  the  partizan  of  the  Principle  of  Utility  virtue 
itself  is  good,  only  because  of  the  pleasures  which  are 
derived  frpm  it ;  and  vice  an  evil,  only  because  of  its 
tendency  to  produce  pain.  Moral  good  is  a  good 
only  because  of  its  tendency  to  produce  physical 
good ;  moral  evil  is  bad  only  because  of  its  tendency 
to  produce  physical  evil.  But  by  physical,  I  under- 
stand the  pleasure  and  pains  of  the  mind,  as  well  as 
the  pains  and  pleasures  of  sense.  I  look  to  man  as 
he  is  by  nature  and  by  constitution. 

If  the  partizan  of  the  Principle  of  Utility  should  find 
in  the  common  catalogue  of  the  virtues,  an  action  from 
which  results  more  pain  than  pleasure,  he  would  not 
fail  to  regard  such  pretended  virtue  as  a  vice.  He 
would  not  suffer  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  the 
general  error  ;  nor  would  he  lightly  believe  that  false 
virtues  may  be  lawfully  employed  in  support  of  the 
true. 

If  he  should  find  moreover  in  the  common  cata- 
logue of  offences,  some  indifferent  action,  or  inno- 
cent pleasure,  he  would  not  scruple  to  remove  the 
pretenaed  offence  to  the  class  of  legitimate  acts;  he 
would  feel  pity  for  the  pretended  criminals,  and  re- 
serve his  indignation  for  the  pretended  virtuous,  who 
persecuted  them. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  199 


CH  A  PT  ER    II. 


PRINCIPLES      OF      ASCETISM.  * 
t 

THIS  principle  is  the  antagonist  of  that  which  has 
just  been  treated  of.  Those  who  follow  it  have  a 
horror  of  pleasure.  They  hold  to  be  odious  and  crimi- 
nal, whatever  gratifies  the  sense.  They  found  their 
morality  upon  privations,  and  their  virtue  upon  self- 
denial.  In  a  word, contrary  to  the  partizans  of  Utility, 
they  approve  whatever  tends  to  diminish  enjoyment, 
and  condemn  whatever  tends  to  augment  it. 

This  principle  has  been  more  or  less  followed  by 
two  classes  of  men,  who,  in  other  respects,  bear  no 
resemblance  to  each  other,  and  who,  in  fact,  mutually 
despise  each  other.  Philosophers  form  one  class,  de- 
votees the  other.  The  ascetic  philosophers,  stimulated 
by  the  desire  of  praise,  flattered  themselves  that  they 
appeared  superior  to  humanity,  in  their  disdain  of 
vulgar  pleasure.  They  looked  to  be  paid  in  reputa- 
tion and  glory  for  all  the  sacrifices  which  they  appear- 
ed to  make  to  the  severity  of  their  faith.  (4)  The 
ascetic  devotees  are  a  sort  of  mad-men  tormented 
with  idle  fears.  Man,  according  to^them,  is  a  degene- 
rate creature,who  ought  to  punish  himself  without  ceas- 
ing for  the  crime  of  his  birth,  and  never  withdraw  his 
thoughts  for  a  moment,  from  the  everlasting  gulph  of 
misery  yawning  beneath  his  feet.  Nevertheless  the 

*  Jlscetism  signifies  by  its  etymology,  exercise :  it  was  a  word  applied  to 
the  monks,  to  describe  their  minute  practices  of  devotion  and  penance.  B. 

(4)  'Does  it  give  you  pain?'  said  a  bystander  to  the  naked  Diogenes, 
whom  he  saw  embracing  a  marble  pillar  in  a  cold  day.  If  it  does,  what  be- 
eomes  of  your  theory  ?  if  it  does  not,  where  is  your  merit  ?  N. 


200  DUMONT'S    BENTHAM. 

martyrs,  even  to  these  extravagant  opinions,  (5)  have 
a  fund  of  hope.  Independent  of  the  worldly  pleasure 
attached  to  the  reputation  of  sanctity,  these  pious  hy- 
pochondriacs persuade  themselves  that  for  every  in- 
stant of  voluntary  pain  here,  they  will  enjoy  an  age 
of  felicity  hereafter.  Thus  even  the  ascetic  principle 
is  founded  upon  a  false  idea  of  utility.  It  grew  into 
favour  only  through  mistake.*  , 

The  devotees  have  carried  ascetism  farther  than 
the  philosophers.  The  philosophers  were  contented 
with  denouncing  pleasure  ;  the  devotees  have  made 
it  our  duty  to  love  pain.  The  Stoics  declared  that 
suffering  was  no  evil :  the  Jansensists  have  discover- 
ed that  it  is  a  good. 

The  philosophical  party  have  never  denounced  plea- 
sures in  the  mass,  but  only  such  as  they  called  gross 
and  sensual,  while  they  exalted  those  of  sentiment 
and  intellect;  it  was  rather  a  preference  for  one,  than 
the  exclusion  of  all.  Pleasure,  always  degraded  or 
disdained  under  its  own  name,  has  always  been  re- 
ceived and  applauded  under  the  name  of  politeness,  or 
glory,  or  reputation,  or  self-esteem,  or  propriety. 

That  I  may  not  be  charged  with  exaggerating  the 
absurdity  of  the  ascetics,  1  shall  seek  for  the  least  un- 
reasonable origin  that  can  be  assigned  to  their  sys- 
tem. It  has  been  acknowledged  already  that  the  at- 
traction of  pleasure  might  be  seductive,  under  certain 

(5)  Extravagant  opin'ons.  Here  we  have  an  example  of  that  kind  of  fal- 
lacy which  consists  in  giving  our  adversary  a  bad  name  to  begin  with.  Mr. 
Bentham  calls  such  words  dislogistick,  in  opposition  to  that  other  fallacy 
which  consists  in  giving  a  good  name  to  whatever  we  choose  to  think  well  of, 
and  which  he  calls  eulogistic.  This  fault  belongs  to  M.  Dumont.  The  author 
would  not  be  guilty  of  such  an  oversight.  He  never  calls  an  opinion  foolish 
or  wicked — he  is  content  with  proving  it  to  be  so.  N. 

*  That  mistake  consists  in  representing  God  by  words  as  a  being  of  in- 
finite benevolence,  while  from  the  prohibitions  and  menaces  which  they  attri- 
bute to  him,  they  suppose  all  that  could  be  expected  from  an  implacable  being 
who  employs  his  omnipotence  only  to  gratify  his  malevolence. 

We  might  ask  the  ascetic  theologians  what  life  would  be  good  for,  if  it  were 
not  for  the  pleasure  it  enables  us  to  enjoy;  and  what  we  can  expect  from  the 
bounty  of  God  in  another  world,  if  he  has  prohibited  pleasure  in  this.  B. 
Another  fallacy;  assertion  of  a  mistake  for  proof.  N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  201 

circumstances;  that  is  to  say, — it  might  lead  to  per- 
nicious acts;  to  acts,  the  evil  arising  from  which  would 
be  greater  than  the  good.  To  prohibit  such  pleasure, 
in  consideration  of  its  bad  effects,  was  the  duty  of 
sound  morality  and  good  laws.  But  the  ascetics  have 
made  a  mistake;  they  have  attacked  pleasure  itself, 
they  have  condemned  it  in  general;  they  have  made 
it  the  subject  of  universal  prohibition,  the  sign  of  a 
reprobate  nature;  and  it  is  only  out  of  compassion 
to  the  weakness  of  humanity,  that  they  have  been  so 
indulgent  as  to  grant  a  few  particular  exemptions.* 

*  There  is  no  need  of  citing  examples  of  religious  ascetism;  but  that  the 
reader  may  the  better  understand  what  is  meant  by  philosophical  ascetism,  I 
transcribe  some  passages  from  Pliny,  the  naturalist,  and  from  Seneca.  Pliny, 
who  should  have  looked  into  the  mysteries  of  nature,  only  to  augment  the  en- 
joyments of  man,  appeared  to  think  that  every  agreeable  use  of  her  produc- 
tions was  an  abuse  and  even  a  crime.  In  speaking  of  perfumes,  he  declaims 
against  the  use  made  of  them:  it  is  a  horrible  pleasure,  a  monstrous  appetite; 
and  he  says  that  one  Plotius,  being  proscribed  by  the  triumvirate,  was  discover- 
ed in  his  hiding-place  by  the  scent  of  perfumes, — adding,  •  Such  infamy  ex- 
cuses the  whole  conscription.  Are  not  such  men  worthy  to  die  ?'  Quo  dede- 
core  tola  absoluta proscriptio.  Quis  enimnon  merit  ojudiceperiisse  tales? 
1.  xiii.  c.  3. 

And  here  is  another  thought  worthy  of  him.  Pessimum  vitce  scelus  fecit 
qui  aurum  primus  induit  digitis,  1  xxxiii,  c.  1.  '  The  first  man  who  put  a 
gold  ring  upon  his  finger  was  guilty  of  the  most  frightful  of  crimes.' 

He  is  angry  with  the  Egyptians  also  for  having  invented  a  mode  of  extracting 
spirituous  liquors  from  grain.  '  Strange  refinement  of  vice!  They  have  found 
out  the  secret  of  intoxicating  with  water.'  Heu\!  mira  vitiorum  solertia  ! 
inventum  est  quemadmod  m  aqua  quoque  inebriaret. 

Seneca  is  not  always  ascetic;  but  he  often  is.  He  is  full  of  puerile  and 
false  ideas.  Who  would  believe  that  under  Nero,  he  could  have  found  leisure 
to  be  angry  with  a  recent  discovery,  by  which  ice  and  a  snow  were  preserved 
through  the  heat  of  summer.  See  his  Natural  Questions,  B.  IV.  C.  13. 
What  a  profusion  of  bitter  eloquence  upon  the  perversity  of  those  who  drank 
ice-water  in  the  dog-days.  '  Water,  which  nature  gives  gratuitously  to  all 
the  world,  has  become  an  object  of  luxury;  it  has  a  price  that  varies  like  that 
of  corn.  There  are  speculators  who  sell  it  wholesale  like  other  merchandize! 
O  shame!  O  modesty! — No,  it  is  not  a  thirst,  it  is  a  fever;  a  fever  which  is 
not  in  the  blood,  but  in  our  desires.  Luxury  has  destroyed  all  that  was  tender 
in  our  hearts,  and  rendered  them  harder  than  ice  itself.' 

Diderot  had  perceived  the  connexion  between  religious  ascetism  and  philo- 
sophical ascetism.  '  Whence  comes  the  intolerance  of  the  ancients?'  he  asks. 
'  From  the  same  source  with  that  of  outrageous  bigots.  They  arc  ill-tempered, 
because  they  wrestle  with  nature,  mortify  themselves,  and  suffer.  If  they 
would  interrogate  themselves  in  good  faith,  concerning  the  hatred  which  they 
bear  to  those  who  profess  a  milder  morality,  they  would  acknowledge  that  it  is 
born  of  a  secret  jealousy  of  the  happiness  which  they  envy,  and  which  they 

26 


202  DUMONT'S    BENTHAM. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE       ARBITRARY       PRINCIPLE;       OR       PRINCIPLE       OF 
SYMPATHY      AND      ANTIPATHY. 

THIS  principle  consists  in  approving  and  disapprov- 
ing from  sentiment,  without  admitting  any  reason  for 
the  opinion  but  the  opinion  itself.  /  love,  I  hate — 
behold  the  pivot,  on  which  the  principle  turns.  An 
action  is  adjudged  good  or  bad,  not  because  it  is  con- 
formable or  otherwise  to  the  interest  of  those  who  are 
affected  by  it;  but  because  it  pleases  or  displeases 
the  individual  who  judges.  He  pronounces  like  a 
sovereign  :  he  suffers  no  appeal  :  he  does  not  feel 
obliged  to  justify  his  opinion  by  any  reference  to  the 
good  of  society.  It  is  my  fixed  persuasion,  it  is  my 
intimate  conviction  ;  I  feel.  Sentiment  consults  no- 
body: unhappy  is  he  who  thinks  otherwise;  he  is 
not  a  man,  he  is  a  monster  in  the  human  shape. 
Such  is  the  despotic  tone  of  his  sentences. 

But  somebody  may  say,  Are  there  men  so  unreasona- 
ble as  to  put  forth  their  particular  sentiments  for  law, 
and  arrogate  the  privilege  of  infallibility?  What  you 
call  a  principle  of  sympathy .  and  antipathy,  is  not  a 
principle  of  reason,-  it  is  rather  the  negation,  the  an- 
nihilation of  all  principle.  From  it  results  a  perfect 
chaos  of  ideas,  since  every  man,  having  the  same  right 
as  another  to  give  his  opinion  as  a  law  for  the  opinion 

have  forbidden  to  themselves,  without  faith  in  the  rewards  which  are  to  indem- 
nify them  hereafter  for  the  sacrifice.     Life  of  Seneca,     p.  443. 

The  t*toic  was  a  valetudinarian  all  his  life.  His  philosophy  was  too  strong. 
It  was  a  kind  of  religious  profession  which  people  never  embrace  but  from  en- 
thusiasm, a  state  of  apathy  to  which  one  applies  himself  with  all  his  power, 
and  under  the  noviciate  of  which  he  dies  without  becoming  a  brother.  Seneca 
despaired  of  continuing  a  man.  Ib.  p.  414.  D. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  203 

of  others,  there  would  be  no  common  standard,  no 
universal  authority  to  which  all  might  appeal.  (6) 

The  absurdity  of  the  principle  is  manifest  ;-for  no 
man  says,  /  would  have  you  think  as  1  do,  without  giv- 
ing myself  the  trouble  of  reasoning  with  you.  Every 
body  would  smile  at  such  ridiculous  pretension ;  and 
we  have  recourse  to  a  variety  of  disguises  for  it ;  we 
hide  our  despotism  under  some  adroit  phraseology. 
Most  of  the  systems  of  philosophy  are  in  proof. 

One  man  will  tell  you  that  he  has  within  him, 
something  which  was  given  to  him  to  teach  him  to 
know  what  is  good  and  what  is  evil ;  and  that  some- 
thing he  calls  either  conscience  or  a  moral-sense:  after- 
wards, working  at  his  ease,  he  decides  that  such  a 
thing  is  good,  and  that  such  a  thing  is  bad. — Why  ? 
Because  the  moral-sense  says  so  to  me  ;  or  because 
my  conscience  approves  or  disapproves. 

Another  appears  and  changes  the  phrase  :  it  is  no 
longer  the  moral-sense,  it  is  common-sense  which 
teaches  him  what  is  good  and  what  is  evil:  this  com- 
mon-sense, says  he,  is  a  sense  which  belongs  to  the 
whole  human  family  :  taking  care  not  to  include  in 
his  estimate  any  of  those  who  do  not  think  as  he 
does. 

Another  assures  you  that  moral-sense  and  common- 
sense  are  dreams;  and  that  it  is  the  understanding 
which  determines  what  is  good  and  what  is  bad. 
His  understanding;  dictates  to  him  so  and  so:  all  wise 

Q 

and  good  men  have  understandings  just  like  his.  As 
for  those  who  do  not  think  as  he  does,  so  much  the 
worse  for  them  ;  it  is  a  proof  that  their  understand- 
ing is  defective  or  corrupted. 

Another  will  inform  you  that  there  is  one  eternal 
and  unchangeable  rule  of  right ;  that  that  rule  orders 
so  and  so :  after  which,  he  retails  to  you  his  individ- 

(6)  Here  the  reader  may  have  brought  to  his  recollection  a  celebrated 
speech  lately  made  in  Congress  on  the  subject  of  State  and  Federal  interpre- 
tation. N. 


204  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

ual  opinions,  which  you  are  bound  to  receive  as  so 
many  branches  of  the  eternal  rule  of  right. 

There  are  moreover  a  multitude  of  professors,  of 
jurists,  of  magistrates,  of  philosophers,  who  make 
your  ears  ring  with  the  Law  ofJ\ature:  they  dispute 
together,  it  is  very  true,  upon  every  article  of  their 
own  system;  but  no  matter;  each  one  proceeds  with 
the  same  intrepidity  and  confidence,  and  favours  you 
with  his  opinions  as  so  many  chapters  of  the  Law  of  Na- 
ture. Sometimes  the  phrase  is  modified ;  it  is  some- 
times called  natural  right,  natural  equity,  the  rights  of 
man,  &c.  &c. 

One  philosopher  determines  to  build  up  a  system 
of  morals  upon  what  he  denominates  truth :  according 
to  him,  there  is  no  evil  in  the  world  but  untruth.  If 
you  kill  your  father,  you  commit  a  crime,  because  it 
is  a  particular  mode  of  saying  that  he  was  not  your 
father.  Whatever  this  philosopher  does  not  like,  he 
condemns,  under  pretence  that  it  is  a  sort  of  untruth : 
It  is  as  if  one  should  say  that  we  ought  to  do  that 
which  ought  not  to  be  done. 

The  most  candid  of  these  despots,  are  those  who 
say  openly — I  am  of  the  number  of  the  elect ;  and 
God  takes  care  to  show  his  elect  what  is  good  and 
what  is  bad.  It  is  Himself  who  is  revealed  to  me  and 
who  speaks  by  my  mouth.  All  ye  therefore  who  are 
in  doubt,  come  to  me  ;  I  will  deliver  to  you  the  ora- 
cles of  God  himself. 

All  these  systems  and  many  others  are  at  the  bot- 
tom, nothing  but  the  arbitrary  principle,  the  princi- 
ples of  sympathy  and  antipathy,  concealed  under  dif- 
ferent forms  of  speech.  We  would  establish  our  own 
opinions  without  regard  to  the  opinions  of  others ; 
these  pretended  principles  are  the  excuse  and  aliment 
of  despots,  at  least  of  a  despotic  temper,  which  would 
betray  itself  in  practice,  if  it  could  with  safety.  The 
result  is,  that  with  the  purest  intentions,  a  man  be- 
comes the  torment  of  himself,  and  the  scourge  of  his 
kind.  If  he  is  of  a  melancholy  character,  he  sinks 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  205 

into  a  state  of  gloomy  silence,  bitterly  deploring  the 
folly  and  the  depravity  of  man.  If  he  is  of  an  irri- 
table nature,  he  declaims  furiously  against  all  who  do 
not  think  as  he  does  :  he  is  one  of  those  fervid  perse- 
cutors who  do  their  mischief  with  an  air  of  sanctity ; 
who  blow  the  fires  of  fanaticism,  with  an  activity  which 
would  seem  to  proceed  only  from  a  sense  of  duty ;  and 
who  overwhelm  with  reproaches  for  their  perversity 

and  bad  faith,  all  those  who  do  not  blindly  adopt  their 

j      •  • 
consecrated  opinions. 

It  is  proper  to  observe  that  the  principle  of  sympa- 
thy and  antipathy,  may  often  coincide  with  that  of 
utility.  To  feel  affection  for  those  who  benefit  us, 
and  aversion  for  those  who  injure  us,  is  the  universal 
disposition  of  the  human  heart.  Thus,  from  one  end 
of  the  earth  to  the  other,  the  common  sentiment  of  ap- 
probation for  benevolent  acts,  and  of  disapprobation 
for  hateful  acts.  Morals  and  jurisprudence,  guided  by 
this  instinct,  have  therefore  most  frequently  reached 
the  great  object  of  utility,  without  having  any  clear 
idea  of  the  principle.  But  these  sympathies, these  an- 
tipathies are  not  sure  and  invariable  guides.  Let  a 
man  refer  his  blessings  and  his  evils  to  an  imaginary 
cause;  and  he  is  subject  to  groundless  affection  and  to 
groundless  hatred.  Superstition, quackery,  the  secta- 
rian spirit,  and  the  spirit  of  party,  depend  almost  en- 
tirely upon  blind  sympathy  or  antipathy. 

The  most  trifling  incidents,  a  difference  in  make 
of  garb,  a  slight  diversity  of  opinion,  or  variety  of 
taste ;  either  is  enough  to  give  to  a  man  the  aspect 
of  an  enemy.  What  is  history — but  a  record  of  the 
most  absurd  quarrels,  and  of  the  most  useless  perse- 
cutions? A  prince  takes  up  a  dislike  to  some  persons 
who  utter  certain  idle  words;  he  calls  them  arians, 
protestants,  socinians,  deists.  The  scaffold  is  pre- 
pared for  them  :  the  ministers  of  the  altar  get  ready 
the  faggot:  the  day  when  heretics  are  burnt  to  death 
becomes  a  national  festival.  Was  there  not  a  civil 


206  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

war  in  Russia,  after  a  long  controversy,  to  determine 
how  many  fingers  were  to  be  used  in  making  the 
sign  of  the  cross?  Were  not  the  citizens  of  Rome  and 
of  Constantinople,  divided  into  implacable  factions 
about  the  players,  the  charioteers  and  the  gladiators? 
and  to  give  importance  to  these  shameful  quarrels, 
did  they  not  pretend  that  the  success  of  the  'greens 
or  the  blues  presaged  abundance  or  scarcity,  victory 
or  defeat,  to  the  empire? 

Antipathy  may  find  itself  united  with  the  principle 
of  utility;  but  it  is  not  even  then  a  good  foundation 
for  behaviour.  Let  one  prosecute  a  robber  from  resent- 
ment. The  action  is  good,  the  motive  dangerous.  If 
it  lends  a  sanction  to  useful  actions,  it  leads  oftener  to 
bad  ones.  The  only  sure  guide  for  doing  well,  under 
all  circumstances,  is  a  consideration  of  the  principle 
of  utility.  We  may  often  do  good  from  other  mo- 
tives; but  we  shall  not  do  good  constantly  unless  we 
betake  ourselves  to  this  principle.  Antipathy  and 
sympathy  ought  to  yield  to  it,  to  avoid  becoming;  mis- 
chievous; but  for  itself,  it  needs  no  regulator ;  it  can 
admit  no  other  than  itself,  and  the  more  extended 
that  is,  the  better. 

To  conclude.  The  principle  of  ascetism  is  directly 
opposed  to  the  principle  of  utility.  The  principle  of 
sympathy  neither  rejects  or  admits  it :  it  pays  no  re- 
gard to  it ;  it  floats  hither  and  thither  at  hazard,  be- 
tween the  good  and  the  bad.  Ascetism  is  so  unrea- 
sonable,that  its  most  infatuated  followers  never  dream 
of  carrying  it  through.  The  principle  of  sympathy 
and  antipathy  does  not  hinder  its  partisans  from  hav- 
ing recourse  to  that  of  utility.  The  last  is  the  only 
one  which  neither  asks  nor  will  admit  of  any  excep- 
tion. Qui  non  sub  me,  contra  me — behold  its  motto. 
According  to  this  principle,  legislation  is  a  matter  of 
study  and  of  calculation:  according  to  the  ascetics,  it  is 
a  matter  of  fanaticism:  according  to  the  principle  of 
sympathy  and  antipathy,  it  is  an  affair  of  caprice,  of 
imagination,  or  of  taste.  The  first  ought  to  please 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  207 

the  philosophers,  the  second  the  monks,  the  third  the 
people,  the  wit,  vulgar  moralist,  and  men  of  the 
world. 


OF    THE    CAUSES    OF    ANTIPATHY. 

This  principle  has  such  influence  in  morals  and 
legislation,  it  is  important  to  trace  it  up  to  its  secret 
source. 

FIRST  CAUSE.  Repugnance  of  the  senses.  Nothing 
is  more  common  than  to  pass  from  a  physical,  to  a 
moral  antipathy,  particularly  with  weak  minds.  A 
crowd  of  innocent  animals  endure  perpetual  persecu- 
tion because  they  happen  to  appear  ugly.  Whatever 
we  are  not  accustomed  to,  may  excite  in  us  a  feel- 
ing either  of  disgust  or  hatred.  What  we  call  a 
monster  is  only  a  being,  who  happens  to  be  unlike  all 
the  rest  of  his  species.  Hermaphrodites,  who  know 
not  to  which  sex  they  belong,  are  regarded  with  a  sort 
of  horror,  only  because  they  are  rare. 

SECOND  CAUSE.  Wounded  pride.  He  who  will 
not  adopt  my  opinion,  declares  indirectly,  that,  upon 
this  point,  he  cares  little  for  my  intelligence.  A  simi- 
lar declaration  offends  my  self-love,  and  shows  me  an 
adversary  in  the  man  who  not  only  testifies  toward 
me  this  degree  of  contempt,  but  who  propagates  it, 
exactly  in  proportion  as  he  succeeds  in  spreading  an 
opinion  contrary  to  mine. 

THIRD  CAUSE.  Power  repelled.  Though  our  van- 
ity may  not  suffer,  we  feel  by  the  difference  of  tastes, 
by  the  resistance  of  opinions,  by  the  shock  of  interest, 
that  our  power  is  limited;  that  on  many  occasions  we 
are  obliged  to  admit  that  ourauthority,which  we  should 
like  to  extend  every  where,  is  on  the  contrary  limit- 
ed on  every  side.  What  leads  us  to  feel  our  weak- 
ness, is  a  secret  pain,  a  seed  of  discontent  with  others. 

FOURTH  CAUSE.      Confidence  in  the  future  conduct 


208  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

of  men  weakened  or  destroyed.  We  love  to  believe 
that  others  are  just  what  they  should  be  for  our  com- 
fort :  every  act  of  theirs  which  tends  to  diminish  our 
confidence  in  them,  cannot  but  give  us  a  secret  dis- 
pleasure. (7)  An  example  of  falsehood  shows  us  that 
we  cannot  reckon  upon  what  they  say,  or  upon  what 
they  promise  :  an  example  of  absurdity  causes  a  gen- 
eral doubt  of  their  good  sense,  and  therefore  of  their 
good  conduct.  An  example  of  caprice  or  of  levity, 
makes  us  conclude  that  we  cannot  safely  bestow  our 
affection  upon  them. 

FIFTH  CAUSE.  Desire  of  unanimity  disappointed. 
Unanimity  pleases  us.  Harmony  between  the  opin- 
ions of  others  and  ours,  is  the  only  outward  guaran- 
tee that  we  can  have  of  the  truth  of  our  opin- 
ions and  of  the  utility  of  the  measures  which  result 
from  them.  Moreover,  we  love  to  entertain  ourselves 
with  the  objects  of  our  taste  ;  it  is  a  source  of  agree- 
able remembrance  or  of  agreeable  hope.  The  con- 
versation of  those  who  have  a  conformity  of  taste  with 
us,  augments  our  fund  of  pleasure,  in  fixing  our  at- 
tention upon  these  objects,  and  in  recalling  them  to 
us  under  new  forms. 

SIXTH  CAUSE.  Envy.  He  who  enjoys  without  in- 
jury to  any  body,  ought  not,  it  would  seem,  to  have 
enemies:  but  people  may  say  that  his  enjoyment  im- 
poverishes those  who  do  not  partake  of  it. 

It  is  a  common  observation  that  envy  is  more  active 
against  recent  superiority  than  against  that  of  a  longer 
duration.  (8)  Thus  the  word  upstart  has  always 

(7)  Wounding  to  our  self-love  on  other  accounts.     It  shows  that  we  have 
been  deceived.     And  to  show  us,  and  others  that  we  have  been  deceived, 
what  is  it  but  to  show  that  our  judgment  was  not  what  we  are  most  anxious  to 
have  it  appear — sound,  faithful  and  discriminating;  if  not  in  all  things,  at  least 
in  all  that  regards  the  character  of  those  we  associate  with.     We  defend  those 
whom  we  have  been  familiar  with,  or  expressed  a  high  opinion  of,  not  so  much 
perhaps  on  their  account  as  on  our  own;  for  to  admit  their  unworthiness  would 
be  to  admit  our  weakness.     N. 

(8)  Or  that  of  a  slower  growth.     We  are  startled  by  a  sudden  eclipse; 
we  suffer  the  shadow  of  night  to  steal  upon  us  without  perceiving  it.     We 
are  indignant  to  be  beaten  by  one  of  yesterday:     We  bear  discomfiture  from 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  209 

found  favour.  It  suffices  to  describe  recent  good-for- 
tune :  envy  adds,  like  associated  or  accessory  ideas, 
degrading  recollections  and  affected  contempt.  En- 
vy leads  to  ascetistn  :  all  men  cannot  have  the 
same  enjoyments,  considering  the  difference  of  age, 
of  circumstances  and  of  riches  ;  but  by  privation,  they 
may  be  reduced  to  the  same  level.  Envy  causes  us 
to  incline  toward  rigid  speculation  in  morals,  as  a 
means  of  reducing  the  price  of  pleasures.  Somebody 
has  well  said  that  if  a  man  were  born  with  one  organ 
of  pleasure  more  than  others,  he  would  be  hunted  as 
a  monster.  (9) 

Such  is  the  origin  of  antipathies :  such  the  bun- 
dle of  sentiments  of  which  they  are  composed.  To 
moderate  their  violence,  we  should  keep  in  mind 
that  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  perfect  conformi- 
ty between  two  individuals  ;  that  if  one  gives  him- 
self up  to  this  unsociable  feeling,  it  will  go  on,  forev- 
er increasing  itself,  and  narrowing  by  little  and  little, 
the  limits  of  our  benevolence  and  our  pleasure  ;  that 
in  general  our  antipathies  re-act  upon  ourselves ;  and 
that  it  is  in  our  power  to  weaken  them,  to  extinguish 
them  indeed,  by  diverting  our  thoughts  from  the  con- 
templation of  the  object  which  excites  them.  Happi- 
ly the  causes  of  sympathy  are  constant  and  natural ; 
while  the  causes  of  antipathy  are  accidental  and  fleet- 
ing. 

one  who  has  been  long  before  the  world  much  better.  Hence  our  comparative 
willingness  to  allow  the  merit  of  a  stranger — our  decided  unwillingness  to  allow 
that  of  a  school-fellow.  The  one,  for  aught  we  or  others  may  know,  has  had 
extraordinary  advantages  that  we  never  had;  the  other,  we  know  and  every 
body  else  knows,  had  to  learn  as  we  learnt.  If  he  outstrip  us  in  our  career,  it 
is  a  mortification  that  we  cannot  forgive.  It  is  a  demonstration  of  superiority 
we  cannot  escape — of  superior  industry  or  of  superior  talent.  N. 

(9)  Not  by  all  others  perhaps;  though  an  individual  with  a  fine  ear  for 
music,  which  is  almost  another  organ,  is  hunted  every  where  with  a  strange 
sort  of  intolerance;  with  ridicule,  or  apathy  or  unbelief,  by  those  who  have  little 
or  no  ear.  The  latter  cannot  forgive,  cannot  even  put  faith  in  Ihe  enthusiasm 
of  the  former.  It  is  called  affectation.  The  eyes  may  fill,  the  lip  may 
quiver,  the  colour  may  come  and  go — but  these  emotions  instead  of  exciting 
sympathy,  seldom  or  never  fail  to  provoke  reproach  or  laughter  in  those  who 
are  not  gifted  with  a  like  ear,  or  a  like  enthusiasm.  N. 

27 


210  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

We  might  arrange  the  moral  writers  in  two  classes  ; 
those  who  labour  to  extirpate  the  venomous  plants  of 
antipathy;  and  those  who  seek  to  propagate  them. 
The  first  are  subject  to  be  calumniated  ;  the  second 
make  themselves  respected,  for  they  gratify  their  ven- 
geance and  envy  under  a  plausible  pretence.  The 
writings  which  have  become  most  suddenly  popular, 
are  those  which  have  been  prepared  under  the  dicta- 
tion of  the  very  demon  of  antipathy ;  libels,  party- 
works,  and  satirical  memoirs.  Telemachus  owed  its 
brilliant  success,  neither  to  its  moral,  nor  to  the 
charms  of  the  language,  but  to  the  general  idea  that 
it  contained  a  satire  on  Louis  XIV.  and  his  court.  (10) 
When  Hume  in  his  history  wished  to  calm  the  spirit 
of  party  and  to  treat  the  passions  as  a  chymist  would 
poisons  in  analysing  them,  he  roused  against  himself 
the  whole  body  of  readers:  men  could  not  bear  to 
have  it  proved  against  them  that  they  were  more  ig- 
norant than  wicked,  and  that  past  ages,  always. spo- 
ken of  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  present,  were  only 
more  fruitful  in  misery  and  crime. 

Happy  for  a  writer — most  happy,  when  he  is  able 
to  give  himself  up  to  these  two  false  principles :  To 
him  belongs  the  field  of  eloquence,  the  employment 
of  figures,  vehemence  of  style,  exaggerated  phrase- 
ology, and  all  the  vulgar  nomenclature  of  the  passions. 
All  his  opinions  are  dogmas,  eternal  truths,  unchange- 
able, immoveable  as  God  and  Nature.  He  exercises 
in  writing,  the  power  of  a  despot,  and  proscribes  all 
who  do  not  think  as  he  does. 

The  partizan  of  utility  is  not  in  a  situation  so  fa- 
vourable to  eloquence.  His  means  are  like  his  object. 
He  cannot  dogmatize,  nor  dazzle,  nor  astonish  ;  he 
is  obliged  to  define  all  his  terms,  to  employ  the  same 

(10)  It  may  be  gratifying  to  some  readers  to  know  that  it  was  the  reading  of 
Telemachus,  when  Mr.  Bentham  was  a  child  (about  seven  years  of  age,  I  be- 
lieve,) that  led  him  first  into  the  pathway  of  UTILITY.  He  saw  so  much 
done  for  others  in  that  book,  that  his  little  heart  began  to  overflow  with  a  desire 
to  do  good.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  211 

word  always  in  the  same  sense.  It  takes  a  long  time 
for  him  to  establish  himself,  to  be  satisfied  with  his 
premises, to  prepare  his  tools;  and  he  has  every  thing 
to  fear  from  that  impatience  which  gets  fatigued 
with  preliminaries,  and  wishes  to  arrive  at  once,  to 
great  results.  Nevertheless  that  slow  and  cautious 
march  is  the  only  one  that  leads  to  his  object;  and  if 
it  is  given  to  eloquence  to  scatter  truth  among  the 
multitude,  it  is  by  analysis  alone  that  those  truths  are 
to  be  discerned. 

JVon  fumum  ex  Julgore  sed  ex  fumo  dare  lucem 

Cogitat 


212  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

OPERATION     OF      THE     FOREGOING     PRINCIPLES      ON     THE     SUBJECT- 
MATTER     IN     REGARD     TO     LEGISLATION. 

THE  principle  of  utility  has  never  been  either  well- 
developed  or  well-followed  by  any  legislator ;  but,  as 
we  have  said  before,  it  has  mingled  itself  with  the 
law,  by  its  occasional  alliance  with  the  principle  of 
sympathy  and  antipathy.  General  ideas  of  virtue 
and  vice,  formed  upon  confused  ideas  of  good  and 
evil,  have  been  sufficiently  uniform  for  essential  pur- 
poses. Legislators  in  consulting  these  popular  no- 
tions, made  the  first  laws,  without  which  society 
would  not  have  been  able  to  exist. 

The  principle  of  ascetism,  although  embraced  with 
heat  by  its  partizans,  in  their  private  conduct,  has 
never  had  much  direct  influence  upon  the  operations 
of  government.  Every  government  on  the  contrary, 
has  diligently  labored  in  the  acquisition  of  power  and 
wealth.  The  mischief  that  princes  have  done,  they 
have  done  with  false  views  of  grandeur  and  power, 
or  under  the  influence  of  particular  passions,  of  which 
evil  to  the  public,  was  the  result  though  not  the  ob- 
ject. The  domestic  administration  of  Sparta,  which 
has  been  so  happily  called  a  military  monastery,  was, 
considering  the  circumstances  of  that  state,  necessary 
for  its  preservation  ;  or  at  least  it  was  so  regarded 
by  its  lawgiver,  and  it  was  conformable,  under  that 
aspect,  to  the  principle  of  utility.  Christian  States 
have  allowed  the  establishment  of  the  monastic  or- 
ders ;  but  their  vows  were  accounted  voluntary.  To 
torment  another  individual  against  his  will  was  a 
crime.  Saint  Louis  wore  a  hair-cloak  ;  but  he  did 
not  oblige  his  followers  to  wear  it. 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  2  1  3 

The  principle  which  has  exerted  the  greatest  in- 
fluence upon  government,  is  that  of  sympathy  and 
antipathy.  In  fact,  we  may  refer  to  this  principle 
whatever  has  been  pursued  under  a  most  plausible 
name,  without  having  happiness  for  its  only  object ; 
good  manners,  equality,  liberty,  justice,  power,  com- 
merce, religion  itself;  all  worthy  objects,  and  objects 
that  ought  to  enter  into  the  views  of  a  legislator,  but 
which  often  lead  him  astray,  since  he  is  accustomed 
to  regard  them  as  the  end,  and  not  as  the  means. 
He  substitutes  them  for  happiness,  instead  of  render- 
ing them  subservient  to  the  pursuit  of  happiness. 

Thus  in  political-economy,  a  government  wholly 
occupied  about  commerce  and  wealth,  sees  in  the 
whole  frame  of  society,  nothing  but  a  workshop;  and 
regarding  man  but  as  a  productive  machine,  pays  no 
regard  to  his  sufferings,  provided  it  can  extract  profit 
from  them.  The  customs,  exchange,  the  public-funds 
occupy  its  whole  thought.  It  regards  with  indiffer- 
ence a  thousand  evils  which  it  might  cure.  All  it  re- 
quires, is  that  new  means  of  enjoyment  be  contrived, 
while  it  busies  itself  with  putting  new  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  enjoyment. 

Others  have  no  idea  of  happiness,  but  by  the  way 
of  power  and  glory.  Full  of  contempt  for  those 
states  which  only  know  how  to  be  happy  in  peaceable 
obscurity,  they  require  intrigues  and  negociations,  and 
wars  and  conquests.  They  do  not  consider  on  what 
misfortunes  that  glory  is  to  be  founded,  nor  how  many 
victims  are  to  be  sacrificed  at  every  bloody  triumph. 
The  light  of  victory  or  the  acquisition  of  a  province 
conceals  from  them  the  desolation  of  their  country, 
and  causes  them  to  mistake  the  true  end  of  govern- 
ment. 

Many  are  they  who  never  ask  if  a  state  is  well 
administered,  if  the  laws  protect  the  property  and  the 
person,  if  the  people  (to  say  all  in  a  word)  are  happy ; 
what  they  desire  above  all,  is  political  liberty,  that  is 


214  DUMONT'S    BENTHAM. 

to  say,  the  most  equal  distribution  that  may  be  imag- 
ined of  political  power.  Wherever  they  do  not  see 
that  particular  form  of  government,  to  which  they  are 
attached,  they  see  nothing  but  slavery  :  and  if  the 
slaves  are  satisfied  with  their  condition,  if  they  do 
not  desire  to  change  it,  they  despise  and  insult  them. 
They  would  be  always  ready,  in  their  fanaticism,  to 
stake  the  happiness  of  the  nation  on  a  civil  war,  for 
the  purpose  of  transferring  the  powers  of  government 
to  the  hands  of  those  who,  by  invincible  ignorance  of 
their  condition,  would  never  be  able  to  use  it,  but  for 
their  own  destruction.  (1 1) 

(11)  How  perfectly  true  this  is.  Look  at  our  bitter  intolerance  for  the  king- 
bearers  of  the  old  world.  We  reason  as  if  one  sort  of  government  would  be  al- 
ways the  best  for  all  sorts  of  people  ;  and  we  have  the  modesty  to  suppose  that 
we  have  found,  and  that  we  are  the  only  preservers  of  that  one  sort.  Look  at 
Spain,  Portugal,  and  the  states  of  South-America.  What  is  their  late  history 
but  proof  that  Bentham  saw  with  a  prophetic  view  into  the  future,  when  he 
wrote  this  paragraph.  The  probability  is,  that  if  the  sternest  and  strongest  mi- 
litary despotism  of  Europe  were  transferred  to  this  country  and  situated  as  the 
United  States  are  now,  it  would  soon  grow  into  such  a  republic,  or  at  least  into 
a  much  milder  monarchy.  Having  nothing  to  fear  from  abroad,  it  might  well 
afford  to  be  gentle  at  home.  And  on  the  contrary,  if  the  United  States  were 
transferred  to  the  heart  of  Europe,  and  surrounded  with  warlike  and  ambitious 
neighbors,  how  long  would  they  continue  a  republic  ?  Not  a  twelvemonth.  Let 
us  not  to  be  too  sure  ;  let  us  not  be  over-arrogant  therefore.  It  may  not  be  so 
far  from  the  truth  as  we  believe,  that,  of  all  governments,  '  that  which  is  best 
administered  is  best.' 

But  a  friend,  for  whose  opinion  I  entertain  the  highest  regard,  offers  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph  on  the  text  above. 

'  Here  we  have  a  defence  of  the  most  arbitrary  and  intolerant  form  of  govern- 
ment. Depart  one  step  from,  the  principle  that  sovereignty  is  distributed  equal- 
ly among  a  people — each  and  every  citizen  having  the  same  share,  and  you  be- 
come an  advocate  for  the  unequal  distribution  of  power.  When  this  principle  is 
once  admitted,  despotism  may  be  defended, — and  republicanism  (1  speak  not 
now  of  temporary  expedients  which  may  be  required  by  existing  circum- 
stances) in  its  purity,  can  no  longer  be  an  ultimate  object  with  those  who 
are  aiming  to  establish  the  best  form  of  human  government.  A  monarchy,  or 
an  aristocracy,  if  administered  by  a  clear  head  and  kind  heart,  might  prove  a 
happy  form  of  government  to  one  generation  of  men,  but  see  upon  how  uncer- 
tain a  tenure  the  happiness  of  the  people  rests — upon  the  life  of  one  man,  or 
of  a  few  men.  You  may  speak  of  an  elective  monarchy  : — Call  the  man  at 
its  head,  king  or  president, — if  he  is  removed  at  the  pleasure  of  the  whole 
people,  fairly  expressed,  he  presides  over  a  republic.  If  he  cannot  be  so  re- 
moved, the  people  have  no  guarantee  that  their  rights  will  be  respected.' 

To  all  which  I  reply  that  I  am  glad  to  have  the  objection  stated,  since  it 
furnishes  an  opportunity  for  preventing  wider  misapprehension.  Mr.  Bentham 
would  teach  and  so  would  I — precisely  what  my  friend  has  set  forth  in  his 
note  ;  namely,  that  of  all  governments  in  theory,  a  representative  republican 
government  is  the  best.  But  at  the  same  time — he  would  teach — that  in 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  215 

These  are  examples  of  the  fantasies  that  are  substi- 
tuted in  politics  to  a  proper  pursuit  of  happiness.  It 
is  not  through  opposition  to  happiness  itself;  but 
through  inadvertence  or  contempt.  They  compre- 
hend but  a  small  portion  of  the  plan  of  utility  ;  they 
attach  themselves  to  a  certain  party  :  they  contend 
against  happiness  in  pursuing  some  particular  branch 
of  the  public  good  ;  they  do  not  consider  that  these 
objects  have  not  a  relative  value,  and  that  happiness 
alone,  posesses  an  intrinsic  value. 

practice  it  might  be  proper  to  add  here  and  there  temporary  qualification. 
How  would  a  small  republican  state  be  able  to  endure  the  shock  of  ambitious 
military  monarchies — forever  thundering  at  her  gates  ?  Answer — by  educat- 
ing the  people  ;  by  teaching  them  to  know  their  own  value.  By  reveal- 
ing to  them  the  source  of  true  sovereignty.  A  few  Greeks  withstood  the 
whole  Persian  empire,  not  so  much  because  they  were  republicans,  as  because 
they  were  educated  republicans,  a  nation  of  sovereigns.  Perhaps  therefore, 
an  ignorant  bad  people,  under  an  hereditary  monarch  had  better  remain  so, 
till  they  are  prepared  to  enjoy  and  understand  the  advantages  of  a  representa- 
tive system,  and  an  equal  distribution  of  power.  This  is  all  that  Mr.  B.  says 
— or  means  to  say.  N. 


216  DUMOiNT'S  BENTHAM. 


CHAPTER    V. 

OBJECTIONS     ANSWERED     TOUCHING      THE     PRINCIPLE     OF     UTILITY. 

WE  may  raise  trifling  objections  to  the  principle  of 
Utility,  we  may  attack  it  with  small  verbal  criticism, 
but  there  is  no  room  for  serious  or  decided  objections. 

How  would  it  be  possible  indeed  to  attack  the  prin- 
ciple, but  by  reasons  drawn  from  the  principle  itself? 
To  say  it  is  dangerous  (12)  were  to  say  that  it  would 
be  contrary  to  utility  to  consult  utility. 

(12)  And  yet  it  is  dangerous  ;  and  so  must  every  other  principle,  every 
other  doctrine  be,  if  there  is  any  virtue  in  it.  Drugs  of  power,  and  princi- 
ples of  worth  must  be  capable  of  doing  mischief,  when  misapplied  or  misun- 
derstood— they  are  therefore  dangerous.  Mr.  Bentham  to  be  sure,  does  not 
perceive  that  his  principle  may  be  dangerous  ;  and  in  a  part  of  the  suppressed 
preface  to  a  late  edition  of  his  FRAGMENT  ON  GOVERNMENT,  we  have  the 
following  passage — a  passage  so  eminently  characteristic  of  the  author,  and 
so  proper  to  show  that  in  this  particular,  his  judgment  may  have  been  led 
astray  by  his  feeling,  that  I  shall  take  the  liberty  to  introduce  it  here.  N. 

'  The  first  personage  to  be  produced  is  Wedderburne  :  at  the  time  here 
spoken  of,  Solicitor  General  ;  afterwards,  with  the  title  of  Lord  Loughborough, 
Chief- Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas,  and  under  that  and  the  subsequent  title  of 
Earl  of  Rosselyn,  Lord  Chancellor. 

1  The  Fragment  had  not  been  out  long,  when  a  dictum  which  it  had  drawn 
from  him,  showed  me  but  too  plainly  the  alarm  and  displeasure  it  had  excited. 
The  audacious  work  had  come  upon  the  carpet :  in  particular  the  principle  of 
Utility,  which  it  so  warmly  advocates  :  this  principle,  and  the  argument  m 
support  of  it,  in  opposition  to  the  Whig-Lawyer  fiction  of  the  original  con- 
tract. "What  say  you  to  it  ?"  said  somebody:  looking  at  Wedderburne. 
Answer — "  It  is  a  dangerous  one."  This  appalling  word,  with  the  applica- 
tion made  of  it  to  the  principle,  contains  all  that  was  reported  to  me.  Of  the 
rest  of  the  conversation  nothing  ;  any  more  than  of  the  other  parties  to  it  :  for 
on  this,  as  on  other  similar  occasions,  what  came  to  me  came  through  cautious 
strainers  :  attached  to  me,  more  or  less,  by  principle  and  affection,  but  to  the 
adversary  by  pressing  interests.  The  dictum,  such  as  it  is,  though  but  from 
this  one  member  of  the  conclave,  will  be  a  sufficient  key  to  whatsoever  might 
Otherwise  seem  mysterious,  in  the  language  or  deportment  of  those  others. 

'  Warm  from  the  mouth  of  the  oracle,  the  response  was  brought  to  me. 
What  I  saw  but  too  clearly  was — the  alarm  and  displeasure  of  which  it  was 
the  evidence  ;  what  I  did  not  see  was — the  correct  perception  rouched  in  it : 
the  perception  I  mean  of  the  tendency  of  the  principle,  with  reference  to  the 
particular  interest  of  the  particular  class,  to  the  head  of  which  the  already  ele- 
vated lawyer  was  on  his  way. 

'  'Till  within  a  few  years — I  am  ashamed  to  think  how  few — did  this  same 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  217 

The  difficulty  of  the  question  arises  from  a  sort  of 
perversity  in  the  language.  We  are  accustomed  to 
speak  of  virtue  in  opposition  to  Utility.  Virtue,  says 
some  one,  is  the  sacrifice  of  our  interest  to  our  duties. 
— To  express  ourselves  clearly,  we  should  say,  that 
there  are  different  degrees  of  interests,  and  that  di- 
vers interests  under  certain  circumstances  are  incom- 
patible. Virtue  is  the  sacrifice  of  a  lesser  interest  to 
a  greater ;  of  a  momentary  interest  to  a  durable  in- 
terest ;  of  a  doubtful  interest  to  a  certain  interest. 
Every  idea  of  virtue  not  derived  from  that  notion  is 
as  obscure  as  the  motive  is  precarious. 

They  who,  for  convenience,  would  distinguish  po- 
litics from  morality,  and  refer  the  first  to  the  principle 
of  Utility,  and  the  second  to  that  of  justice,  have  but 
a  confused  idea  of  the  truth.  The  whole  difference 
between  politics  and  morals  is,  that  one  directs  the 
operations  of  government,  while  the  other  regulates 

response  remain  a  mystery  to  me.  The  principle  of  Utility  a  dangerous  prin- 
ciple ?  Dangerous,  to  endeavour  to  do  what  is  most  useful  ?  The  proposition, 
(said  I  to  myself)  is  a  self-contradictory  one.  Confusion  of  ideas  on  his  part, 
[for  I  could  find  no  other  cause]  was  the  cause  to  which  I  attributed  it.  The 
confusion  was  in  mine.  The  man  was  a  shrewd  man,  and  knew  well  enough 
what  he  meant,  though  at  that  time  I  did  not.  By  this  time,  my  readers, 
most  of  them  know,  I  hope,  what  he  meant  as  well  as  he  did.  The  paraphrase, 
by  which  upon  occasion  they  would  expound  it,  would  be  to  some  such  effect 
as  this. — "  By  Utility,  set  up  as  the  object  of  pursuit  and  standard  of  right 
and  wrong  in  the  practice  of  government,  what  this  man  means  to  direct  peo- 
ple's eyes  to,  is — that  which,  on  every  occasion,  is  most  useful  to  all  those  in- 
dividuals taken  together,  oner  whom  government  is  exercised.  But  to  us,  by 
whom  the  powers  of  government  are  exercised  over  them, — to  us,  so  far  from 
being  most  useful,  that  which  would  be  most  useful  to  them,  would,  on  most 
occasions,  be  calamitous.  Let  this  principle  but  prevail,  it  is  all  over  with  us. 
It  is  our  interest,  that  the  mass  of  power,  wealth,  and  factitious  dignity  we  en- 
joy at  other  people's  expense,  be  as  great  as  possible  ;  it  is  theirs,  that  it  be  as 
small  as  possible.  Judge,  then,  whether  it  is  not  dangerous  to  us.  And  whom 
should  we  think  of  but  ourselves  ?' 

'  Thus  far  Wedderburne.  What  this  one  lawyer  said,  all  those  others 
thought.  And  who  knows  how  many  hundred  times  they  may  not  have  said  it  ? 

"  i\ot  long  after,  I  found  myself  in  company  with  him.  It  was  the  first 
lime  and  the  only  one.  It  was  at  the  house  of  my  intimate  friend  Lind,  of 
whom  presently.  Any  acroutit  of  me  by  him  could  not  but  have  been  in  an 
eminent  degree  favorable.  Wedderburne  eved  me,  but  did  not  speak  to  me. 
lie  was  still  Solicitor-General.  With  all  deference,  I  ventured  some  slight 
question  to  him.  It  was  of  a  sort  that  any  one  could  have  put  to  any  one. 
Answer  short  and  icy.'  " 

28 


218  DUMONT'S  BENHAM. 

the  doings  of  individuals;  but  their  common  object  is 
happiness.  What  is  politically  good,  cannot  be  mor- 
ally bad,  unless  the  rules  of  arithmetic,  which  are 
good  for  a  large  number,  are  bad  for  a  small  one. 

We  may  go  wrong,  while  \ve  persuade  ourselves 
that  we  are  following  the  principle  of  Utility.  A 
weak  and  limited  understanding  may  deceive  itself, 
by  taking  into  view  only  a  small  part  of  the  good 
and  evil,  which  result  from  a  given  act.  A  passion- 
ate man  may  deceive  himself  by  attaching  an  exces- 
sive value  to  some  good,  which  hinders  him  from 
seeing  the  evil  connected  with  it.  What  constitutes 
wickedness  is  a  habit  of  indulging  in  pleasures  that 
are  hurtful  to  others ;  but  even  that  supposes  the  ab- 
sence of  many  kinds  of  pleasure.  But  we  are  not  to 
charge  the  principle  with  the  faults  which  are  con- 
trary to  it,  and  which  alone  might  serve  to  regulate 
it.  If  a  man  calculates  ill,  it  is  not  arithmetic  that 
is  in  fault ;  it  is  himself.  If  the  reproaches  that  are 
heaped  on  Machiavel  are  just,  his  errors  do  not  pro- 
ceed from  his  not  having  consulted  the  principle  of 
Utility^  but  from  his  having  made  false  applications 
of  it.  The  author  of  Jlnti-Machiavel  saw  this  clear- 
ly:  he  refutes  the  Prince  by  showing  that  his  maxims 
are  pernicious,  and  that  bad  faith  is  bad  policy. 

Those  who,  after  reading  Cicero's  Offices,  and  the 
Platonic  moralists,  have  a  confused  notion  of  Utility 
as  opposed  to  honesty,  often  quote  the  saying  of  Aris- 
tides  upon  the  project,  which  Themistocles  would  ex- 
plain only  to  him.  "  The  project  of  Themistocles  is 
very  advantageous,  said  Aristides,  to  the  assembled 
Athenians  ;  but  it  is  very  unjust  S  People  imagine 
that  they  see  here  a  decided  opposition  of  the  just  to 
the  useful ;  they  are  mistaken  :  it  is  })ut  a  comparison 
of  good  and  evil.  Unjust  is  a  term  which  presents 
the  collective  idea  of  all  the  mischief  resulting  from 
a  situation,  in  wrhich  men  could  no  longer  trust  one 
another.  Aristides  might  have  said,  '  The  project  of 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  219 

Themistocles  would  be  useful  for  a  moment,  and 
hurtful  for  ages  ;  what  it  would  give,  is  nothing  to 
what  it  would  take  away.'* 

This  principle  of  Utility,  some  one  will  say — is  it 
not  a  revival  of  epicurism  ? — And  we  know  the  cor- 
ruption of  manners  caused  by  that  doctrine  ;  it  was 
always  that  of  the  most  profligate  men. 

Epicurus,  it  is  true,  was  the  only  one  of  the  an- 
cients, who  saw  the  true  source  of  morality  ;  but  to 
suppose  that  his  doctrine  leads  to  the  consequences 
that  are  imputed  to  it,  is  to  suppose  that  happiness 
may  be  the  enemy  of  happiness  itself.  Sic  prcesenti- 
bus  utaris  voluptatibus  ut  futnris  non  noceas.  Seneca 
is  here  on  the  same  side  with  Epicurus  ;  but  is  it  pos- 
sible to  desire  more  for  morals  than  the  retrenchment 
of  every  pleasure  hurtful  to  ourself  or  to  others  ? 
And  what  is  that  but  the  principle  of  Utility? 

But  says  another.  '  Every  man  constitutes  him- 
self the  judge  of  Utility  for  himself:  Every  obliga- 
tion will  cease  whenever  it  does  not  accord  with  his 
own  interest. 

Every  man  constitutes  himself  the  judge  of  Utility 
Jbr  himself.  So  it  is,  and  so  it  should  be;  otherwise 
man  would  not  be  a  reasonable  agent.  He  who  is 
not  a  judge  of  what  is  good  for  himself,  is  less  than 
an  infant — he  is  an  ideot.  Obligation  which  holds 
men  to  their  engagements,  is  nothing  but  the  sense 
of  an  interest  of  a  higher  class  which  prevails  over  a 
subordinate  interest.  Men  are  not  held  by  the  particu- 
lar utility  of  this  or  that  engagement  ;  but  in  a  case 
where  the  engagement  is  an  evil  to  one  of  the  parties, 
he  is  held  by  the  general  utility  of  engagements  ;  by 
the  confidence  which  every  enlightened  man  wishes 

*  This  anecdote  would  not  be  worth  the  trouble  of  citation,  but  for 
clearing  up  the  sense  of  the  words  ;  for  its  falsity  has  been  demonstrated.  (See 
Mitford's  History  of  Greece.)*  Plutarch,  who  sought  to  honour  the  Atheni- 
ans, would  have  had  some  trouble  in  reconciling  with  his  noble  sentiment  of 
justice,  the  greater  part  of  their  history.  D. 

*  Mittbid  if  unworthr  of  credit.    N. 


220  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

to  have  placed  in  his  word,  in  order  that  he  may  be 
considered  as  a  man  of  good  faith,  and  enjoy  the 
advantages  attached  to  probity  and  to  esteem.  It  is 
not  the  engagement  itself  which  constitutes  the  obli- 
gation; for  there  are  unlawful  and  void  engagements; 
And  why  ?  Because  they  are  considered  hurtful.  It 
is  then  the  utility  of  the  contract  which  gives  it  force. 
One  might  easily  reduce  every  act  of  exalted 
virtue  to  a  calculation  of  good  and  evil.  It  is  neither 
to  degrade  it,  nor  to  weaken  it,  to  represent  it  as  the 
effect  of  reason,  and  to  explain  it  in  an  intelligible 
and  simple  manner. 

We  perceive  now  into  what  a  circle  they  are  led 
who  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  principle  of  Utility.  I 
ought  to  keep  my  promise.  Why?  Because  I  am 
commanded  to  do  so  by  my  conscience.  How  do 
you  know  that  you  are  commanded  to  do  so  by  your 
conscience  ?  Because  I  have  the  inward  feeling. 
Why  ought  you  to  obey  your  conscience  ?  Because 
God  is  the  author  of  my  nature,  and  to  obey  my  con- 
science is  to  obey  God.  Why  ought  you  to  obey 
God  ?  Because  it  is  my  first  duty.  How  know  you 
this  ?  Because  my  conscience  tells  me  so,  &c.  Such 
is  the  everlasting  circle  out  of  which  we  are  never  to 
escape ;  such  the  source  of  obstinacy  and  of  invinci- 
ble error.  For  if  we  judge  of  every  thing  by  senti- 
ment, there  is  no  means  of  distinguishing  between 
the  injunctions  of  an  enlightened  conscience,  and 
those  of  a  blind  conscience.  All  persecutors  have 
the  same  title  ;  all  fanatics  the  same  right. 

If  you  would  reject  the  principle  of  Utility,  be- 
cause it  may  be  misapplied,  what  would  you  substi- 
tute for  it?  What  rule  have  you  discovered  that  one 
cannot  abuse  ?  Where  is  that  infallible  guide  ? 

Will  you  substitute  for  it  some  despotic  principle, 
(13)  which  orders  men  to  act  in  such  or  such  a  way, 
without  knowing  why,  from  pure  obedience  ? 

(13)  In  other  words  a  Despotism  But  see  the  note  p.  214,  on  the  repre- 
sentatiye  system.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  221 

Will  you  substitute  for  it  some  chaotic,  vague  and 
capricious  principle,  founded  only  upon  your  inward 
and  peculiar  sentiments  ? 

In  this  case  what  are  the  inducements  you  W7ould 
offer  to  persuade  men  to  follow  you  ?  Would  they 
be  independent  of  their  interest  ?  If  they  do  not 
agree  with  you,  how  will  you  reason  with  them, 
how  contrive  to  conciliate  them  ?  Whither  will  you 
summon  all  the  sects,  all  the  opinions,  all  the  contra- 
dictions that  fill  the  world,  if  not  to  the  tribunal  of  a 
common  interest  ? 

The  most  obstinate  adversaries  of  the  principle  of 
utility  are  those  who  establish  themselves  upon  what 
they  call  the  religious  principle.  They  profess  to 
take  the  will  of  God  for  the  only  rule  of  good  and 
evil.  It  is  the  only  rule  say  they,  which  has  all  the 
characteristics  required,  being  infallible,  universal  so- 
vereign, &.c.  &.c. 

I  answer  that  the  religious  principle  is  not  a  distinct 
principle;  it  is  not  one  of  those  treated  of,  under  an- 
other form.     What  is  called  the  will  of  God,  can  be 
(at  the  best)  but  his  presumed  will,  since  God  does 
not  explain  himself  to  us  by  immediate  acts,  nor  by 
particular  revelations.      But  how  can  a  man  presume 
to  know  the  will  of  God  ?     By  his  own  will.     But  his 
own  will  is  always  directed  by  one  of  the  three  prin- 
ciples  above   mentioned.     How   do  you  know  that 
God  does  not  desire  such  or  such  a  thing  ?     Because 
it  would  be  prejudicial  to  the  happiness  of  man,  an- 
swers the  partizan  of  utility.     Because  it  contains 
a   gross  and  sensual   pleasure  which  God  reproves, 
answers  the  ascetic.      Because  it  wounds  the  con- 
science, is  contrary  to  our  natural  sentiments,  and  be- 
cause we  ought  to  detest  it  without  permitting  our- 
selves to  examine  it.     Such  is  the  language  of  an- 
tipathy. 

But  revelation,  says  another,  is  the  direct  expres- 
sion of  the  will  of  God.     There  is  nothing  arbitrary 


222  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

there.  It  is  a  guide  which  ought  to  prevail  over  all 
human  reason. 

I  will  not  answer  indirectly  that  revelation  is  not 
universal ;  that  even  among  Christians  themselves, 
many  individuals  do  not  admit  it,  and  that  a  com- 
mon principle  of  reasoning  is  required  for  all  man- 
kind. 

But  I  answer  that  revelation  is  not  a  system  of 
politics  nor  of  morals;  that  all  its  precepts  require  to 
be  explained,  modified  and  limited  one  by  another; 
that  taken  in  the  literal  sense,  they  would  overthrow 
the  world,  annihilate  self-defence,  industry,  com- 
merce, and  reciprocal  attachment ;  that  the  ecclesi- 
astical history  is  a  proof  incontestable  of  the  dreadful 
mischief  that  has  resulted  from  religious  maxims  ill- 
understood. 

What  a  difference  between  the  protestant  and  the 
catholic  theologians,  between  the  moderns  and  the 
ancients!  The  evangelical  morality  of  Paley  is  not 
the  evangelical  morality  of  Nicole.  That  of  the  Jan- 
senists  is  not  that  of  the  Jesuits.  The  interpreters 
of  scripture  divide  themselves  into  three  classes. 
One  party  would  take  the  principle  of  utility  for  its 
rule  of  criticism  ;  another  would  follow  ascetism  ; 
another  the  confused  impressions  of  sympathy  and 
antipathy.  The  first,  far  from  excluding  pleasure, 
allow  it  as  a  proof  of  the  goodness  of  God  :  The 
ascetics  are  its  mortal  enemies;  if  they  suffer  it,  it  is 
never  for  itself,  but  with  a  view  to  some  certain  and 
necessary  end.  The  last  approve  or  condemn  it  ac- 
cording to  their  fancy,  without  being  determined  by 
the  consideration  of  its  consequences.  Revelation  is 
not  then  a  principle  of  itself.  We  cannot  give  this 
name  to  any  thing,  but  to  that  which,  while  it  does 
not  itself  require  to  be  proved,  serves  to  prove  every 
thing  else. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  223 


CHAPTER    VI. 


OF     THE     DIFFERENT     KINDS     OF     PLEASURE     AND     PAIN. 

WE  experience  continually  a  variety  of  percep- 
tions, which  do  not  interest  us,  and  which  therefore 
glide  over  us  without  fixing  our  attention.  Thus 
the  greater  part  of  the  objects  that  are  familiar  to 
us  do  not  produce  a  sensation  strong  enough  to 
cause  either  pain  or  pleasure.  We  can  give  these 
names  but  to  interesting  perceptions,  to  those  which 
come  upon  us  in  a  crowd,  and  of  which  we  desire 
either  a  continuance  or  an  end.  These  interesting 
perceptions  are  either  simple  or  complex  :  simple,  if 
they  cannot  be  subdivided  into  many;  (14)  complex, 
if  they  are  composed  of  many  simple  pleasures,  or  of 
many  simple  pains,  or  even  of  pleasures  and  pains 
together.  What  determines  us  to  consider  many 
pleasures  as  one  complex  pleasure,  and  not  as  many 
simple  pleasures,  is  the  nature  of  the  cause  which 
excites  them.  All  the  pleasures  which  are  produced 
by  the  operation  of  the  same  cause  we  are  apt  to 
consider  but  as  one  pleasure.  Thus  a  spectacle 
which  gratifies  many  of  our  faculties  at  the  same 
time,  by  the  beauty  of  the  decoration,  the  music,  the 
company,  les  partircs  (15)  and  the  acting,  constitutes 
one  complex  pleasure. 

(14)  Decomposed  into  many,  says  Dumont.     Si  on  ne  pent  pas  les  de- 
composer en  plusieurs.     N. 

(15)  Untranslatable.     Parure  means  a  sort  of  general  embellishment,  a 
kind  of  keeping,  as  the  painters  call  it,  in  the  showy  ness  and  relationship  of 
part  with  part.     We  say  une  femme  qui  aime  la  parure  :    les  meubles 
tVunc  chambre  sont  de  meme  parure.     N. 


224  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

It  has  required  a  great  labour  of  analysis  to  pre- 
pare a  complete  catalogue  of  simple  pleasures  and 
pains;  and  the  catalogue  itself  is  of  a  character  like- 
ly to  repel  readers  ;  for  it  is  not  the  work  of  a  novel- 
writer,  who  seeks  to  please  and  to  move,  but  an  ac- 
count stated — an  inventory  of  our  sensations. 

SIMPLE    PLEASURES. 

1.  Pleasures  of  Sense :   those  which  relate  imme- 

•  t/ 

diately  to  our  organs,  independently  of  all  associ- 
ation, pleasures  of  taste,  of  smell,  of  sight,  of  hear- 
ing, of  feeling ;  and  particularly  of  good  health — of 
that  happy  flow  of  animal  spirits,  proceeding  from  a 
light  and  easy  enjoyment  of  existence,  without  re- 
lation to  any  particular  sense,  but  to  all  the  vital 
functions:  and  finally  the  pleasures  of  novelty,  those 
which  we  feel  when  new  objects  are  offered  to  our 
senses.  They  do  not  form  a  different  class  ;  but 
they  constitute  so  large  a  part  as  to  deserve  express 
mention. 

2.  Pleasures  of  wealth — are  those  which  result  from 
the  possession  of  a  thing  that  is  the  instrument  of  en- 
joyment or  security — these  pleasures  are  the  most  live- 
ly at  the  moment  of  acquisition. 

3.  Pleasures  of  skill — are  those  which  result  from 
a  difficulty  overcome,  from  some   relative   perfection 
in    the   management    or   use    of  instruments    which 
serve    for   objects  of  comfort  or  utility.     A   person 
who  plays  on  the  harpsichord,  for  example,  experi- 
ences a  pleasure  perfectly  distinct  from  that  which  he 
would  feel  on  hearing  the  same   piece  of  music  play- 
ed by  another. 

4.  Pleasures    of  friendship — are    those   which   ac- 
company the  belief  that  we  possess  the  sincere  re- 
gard of  such  or  such  individuals  in  particular,  and  the 
right  in  consequence,  of  expecting  from  them  gratui- 
tous and  spontaneous  services. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  225 

5.  Pleasures  of  a  good  reputation — are  those  which 
accompany  the   belief  that  we  possess,   or  may  ac- 
quire the  esteem  and  regard  of  the  world  about  us, 
of  the  persons  in  general  with  whom  we  have  to  do, 
and  the  right  in  consequence  of  expecting  from  them 
voluntary  and  gratuitous  services. 

6.  Pleasures  of  power — are  those  which  a  man  feels 
who   possesses   the   means  of  influencing  others   by 
their  hopes  or  their  fears,  that  is   to  say,  by  the  fear 
of  some  evil  or  by  the  hope  of  some  good  which  he 
may  do  to  them. 

7.  Pleasures  of  Piety — those  which  accompany  the 
belief  that  we   possess  or  shall  acquire   the  favor  of 
God,   with  the  right,  in  consequence,   of  expecting 
particular  favors,  whether  in  this  life  or  in  the  life 
to  come. 

8.  Pleasures  of  Benevolence — are  those   which  we 
feel  in  contemplating  the  happiness  of  those  we  love. 
We  may  call   them  pleasures   of  sympathy,  or  plea- 
sures of  the  social  affections.     Their  power  is  more 
or  less   expansive  ;   they  may  be   concentrated  in  a 
narrow  circle  or  embrace  the  whole   human   family. 
Benevolence    may   apply  itself  even  to  animals,  of 
which  we  love  either  the  species  or  individuals :   the 
signs  of  their  comfort  agreeably  affect  us. 

9.  Pleasures  of  Malevolence — these  result   from  the 
sight,  or  from  the  thought  of  pain,  which  beings  that 
we  do  not  love,   whether  men  or  animals,  endure. 
We  may  call  them  the  pleasures  of  the  irascible  pas- 
sions, of  antipathy,  of  the  anti-social  affections. 

10.  When  we  apply  the  faculties  of  our  minds  to 
acquire  new  ideas,  and  discover  or  believe   that  we 
discover  interesting  truths  in   the  moral  or  physical 
sciences,    the   pleasure  that  we   feel  may  be   called 
the  pleasure    of  intelligence.     The   transport   of    Ar- 
chimedes  on  discovering  the    solution  of  a  difficult 

O 

problem,  is  readily  understood  by  those  who  have  ap- 
plied themselves  to  the  study  of  the  abstract  sciences 
29 


226  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

11.  After  having  tasted   a  particular  pleasure,  and 
even  in  certain  cases,  after  having  suffered  a  parti- 
cular pain,  we  love  to  recall  it  in  its  order  and   re- 
trace it  with  exactness.     These  are  the  pleasures  of 
memory.     They  are  as   various  as   the   recollections 
which  cause  them. 

12.  But  sometimes  memory  suggests   the  idea  of 
certain  pleasures  which  we   place  in  a  different  or- 
der, according   to  our  desires,  and  which  we  accom- 
pany with   the    most    agreeable    circumstances    that 
have  occurred  to  us,  either  in  our  life  or  in  the  lives 
of  other  men.     These  are  the   pleasures  of  imagina- 
tion.   The  painter  who  copies  from  nature  represents 
the  operations  of  memory.     He  who  takes   here  and 
there  a  group  and  associates  them  as  he  likes,  repre- 
sents the  imagination.  (16)     New  ideas   in   the   arts 
and  sciences,  discoveries  interesting  to  our  curiosity, 
are  pleasures  of  the  imagination,  the  field  of  whose 
enjoyment  is  thereby  enlarged. 

13.  The  idea  of  a  future  pleasure  accompanied  with 
an  expectation  of  enjoying  it,  constitute  the  pleasure 
of  hope. 

14.  Pleasures  of  Association.    Such  or  such  an  ob- 
ject gives  no  pleasure  itself;    but  if  it  be  connected 
or  associated  in   the  mind  (or  memory)  with  some 
agreeable  object,  it  becomes  agreeable  by  participa- 
tion thereof.     Thus,  the  various  incidents  of  a  game 
at  hazard  where  we  play  for  nothing,  owe  their  charm 
to  their  association  with  the  pleasure  of  gain. 

15.  There  are  even  pleasures  founded  upon  pains. 
When  we  suffer,  the  cessation  or   the  diminution  of 
pain  is  a  pleasure,  and  often  very  lively.     We  may 
call    these    the    pleasures    of   relief  or   deliverance. 
They  are  susceptible  of  the  same  variety  as  the  pains. 

Such  are  the  materials  of  all  our  enjoyment.    They 
are  united,  they  are  combined,  they  are  modified  in 

(16)  This  the  painters  call  composing.    N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  227 

a  thousand  ways  to  such  a  degree,  that  it  requires 
some  attention  and  practice,  to  be  able  to  detect  in  a 
complex  pleasure,  the  simple  pleasures  that  com- 
pose it. 

The  pleasure  that  the  sight  of  the  country  gives 
is  composed  of  different  pleasures  of  sense,  of  imag- 
ination and  of  sympathy.  The  variety  of  objects, 
the  flowers,  the  colors-,  the  beautiful  forms  of  the 
trees,  the  intermixture  of  shadow  and  light  are  grate- 
ful to  the  eye  ;  the  ear  is  delighted  by  the  songs  of 
the  birds,  the  murmur  of  waters,  and  by  the  slight 
noise  of  the  wind  among  the  leaves;  the  air  perfum- 
ed with  a  new  vegetation,  is  another  source  of  plea- 
sure, through  the  sense  of  smelling,  at  the  same  time 
that  its  purity  and  its  lightness  quickens  the  circula- 
tion of  the  blood,  and  makes  exercise  more  agreeable. 

Imagination  and  benevolence  are  busy  in  improv- 
ing the  picture,  by. calling  up  ideas  of  wealth,  abun- 
dance and  fertility.  The  innocence  and  the  joy  of 
the  birds,  of  the  flocks,  and  of  the  domestic  animals, 
are  agreeably  contrasted  with  the  recollection  of  the 
fatigues  and  trials  of  life.  We  suppose  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  country  to  enjoy  perpetually  the  same 
pleasure  we  feel  under  the  excitement  of  novelty. 
And  at  last,  the  recognition  of  our  gratitude  to  the 
Supreme  Being  whom  we  regard  as  the  author  of  all 
these  benefits,  augments  our  confidence  and  our  admi- 
ration. 

SIMPLE   PAINS. 

1.  Pains  of  privation. — These  correspond  with  ev- 
ery pleasure,  the  absence  of  which  excites  a  sensation 
of  uneasiness.  There  are  three  principal  modifica- 
tions. 

1.  If  we  desire  a  certain  pleasure,  and  the  fear  of 
losing  it  is  greater  than  the  hope  of  gaining  it,  the 
pain  which  results  from  this  condition  of  the  mind, 


228  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

may  be  called  the  pain  of  desire  or  the  pain  of  unsatis- 
fied desire.  2.  If  we  have  strongly  hoped  to  enjoy  it, 
and  all  at  once  that  hope  is  destroyed,  the  privation 
is  a  pain  of  expectation  deceived,  or  disappointment. 
3.  If  we  have  enjoyed  a  good,  or  what  amounts  to 
the  same  thing,  if  we  have  have  firmly  reckoned  upon 
its  possession,  and  come  to  lose  it,  the  feeling  which  re- 
sults from  the  loss  of  it  is  called  regret.  As  to  that  lan- 
guor of  the  soul,  which  is  called  ennui,  it  is  a  pain  of 
privation  which  does  not  refer  to  this  or  that  object, 
but  to  the  absence  of  all  agreeable  feeling. 

2.  Pains  of  the  senses.    These  are  of  nine  sorts  : 
those  of  hunger  and  thirst ;  those  of  the  taste,  of  the 
smell,  and   of  the  touch  produced   by  the  application 
of  substances  which  excite  disagreeable  sensations ; 
those  of  hearing  and  those  of  sight,  produced  by  the 
sounds  or  the  images  that  hurt  the  organs,  independ- 
ently of  all  associations;   excess  of  cold   or  of  heat 
(unless  we  refer  this  pain  to  the  touch,)  sickness  of 
every  sort;    and  finally  fatigue,  whether  of  the  mind 
or  of  the  body. 

3.  Pains  of  awkwardness :    those  which  we  expe- 
rience in  unprofitable  attempts,  or  difficult  efforts  to 
apply  to  all  their  different  uses,  all  kinds  of  tools  or 
instruments  of  pleasure  or  want. 

4.  Pains  of  enmity — such  as  a  man  feels  when  he 
believes  himself  to  be  the  object  of  hatred  to  such  or 
such   individuals,   and  exposed    to   suffer  from  their 
hatred,  no  matter  how. 

5.  Pains  of  a  bad  reputation — those  which  a  man 
feels  when  he  believes  himself  to  be  an  object  of  ill- 
will  or  contempt  to  the  world  around  him,  or  likely 
to  become  such.     They  may  be  called  pains  of  dis- 
honor— pains  of  the  popular  sanction. 

6.  Pains  of  Piety. — These  result  from  the  fear  of 
having  offended  the  Supreme  Being,  and  incurred  his 
chastisements,  either  in  this  life  or  in  the  life  to  come. 
If  they  are  thought  well-founded  they  are  called  rcll- 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  229 

gious fears;  if  they  are  thought  ill-founded,  they  are 
called  superstitious  fears. 

7.  Pains  of  benevolence — such  as  we  experience  at 
the  sight  or  thought  of  suffering,  whether  to  our  own 
species  or  to  brutes.  Emotions  of  pity  lead  us  to 
weep  for  the  woes  of  another  as  well  as  for  our  own. 
We  may  call  these  the  pains  of  sympathy — pains  of 
the  social  ajfections. 

(J.  Pains  of  malevolence — the  grief  we  feel  in  think- 
ing of  the  happiness  of  one  that  is  hateful  to  us. 
We  may  call  this  the  pain  of  antipathy  ;  or  pains  of 
the  anti-social  affections. 

9.  10.  11.  The  pains  of  memory r,  of  the  imagina- 
tion, and  of  fear,  are  exactly  the  counterpart  of  their 
respective  pleasures. 

When  a  single  cause  produces  many  of  these  sim- 
ple pains,  they  are  considered  as  one  single  complex 
pain.  Thus  exile,  imprisonment,  confiscation,  are 
complex  pains,  which  may  be  decomposed,  in  follow- 
ing the  catalogue  of  simple  pains. 

If  the  labor  of  preparing  this  catalogue  is  dry,  it  is 
one  of  the  greatest  utility.  Every  system  of  morals, 
every  system  of  legislation  rests  upon  this  founda- 
tion— a  knowledge  of  pains  and  pleasures.  It  is  the 
germ  of  every  clear  idea.  When  we  speak  of  vir- 
tues and  vices,  of  innocent  or  criminal  actions,  of  a 
system  of  punishment  or  reward,  what  do  we  ?  we 
speak  of  pains  and  pleasures,  and  of  nothing  else. 
A  reason  in  morals  or  in  legislation  which  cannot  be 
translated  by  the  simple  words  pain  and  pleasure,  is 
an  obscure  and  sophistical  reason,  from  which  noth- 
ing can  be  drawn. 

You  wish,  for  example,  to  study  the  subject  of 
crimes;  this  great  object  which  governs  legislation. 
That  study  at  the  bottom  is  but  a  comparison  of  a 
calculation  of  pains  and  pleasures.  You  will  consi- 
der the  crime  or  the  evil  of  a  certain  action,  that  is  to 
say,  the  pains  which  result  from  it  to  such  or  such 


230  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

individuals  :  the  motive  of  the  delinquent,  that  is  to 
say,  the  attraction  of  a  particular  pleasure  which  has 
led  him  to  its  perpetration  ;  the  profit  of  the  crime, 
that  is  the  acquisition  of  some  pleasure  which  has 
been  the  consequence  of  it ;  the  legal  punishment  to 
be  inflicted,  that  is  to  say,  some  one  of  those  pains, 
which  it  is  necessary  to  visit  the  guilty  with.  This 
theory  of  pains  and  pleasures  then,  is  the  foundation 
«  of  all  science. 

The  more  we  examine  these  two  catalogues,  the 
more  matter  we  shall  find  for  reflection. 

We  perceive  first  that  we  may  divide  pleasures  and 
pains  into  two  classes  :  pleasures  and  pains  relating  to 
others  : — pleasures  and  pains  purely  personal.  Those 
of  benevolence  and  of  malevolence  compose  the  first 
class  :  all  the  others  belong  to  the  second. 

We  perceive  in  the  second  place,  that  there  are 
many  kinds  of  pleasure  which  have  no  correspond- 
ent pain.  J.  The  pleasures  of  novelty  ;  the  sight  of 
new  objects  is  a  source  of  pleasure,  while  the  simple 
absence  of  new  objects  is  not  felt  as  a  pain.  (17) 
2.  The  pleasures  of  love — their  privation  does  not 
produce  positive  pain,  unless  that  privation  be  ac- 
companied by  disappointed  desire ;  some  tempera- 
ments may  suffer,  but  continence  in  general  is  an  ap- 
petite for  pleasure,  which  is  any  thing  but  a  painful 
state.  3.  The  pleasures  of  wealth  and  of  acquisition 
— they  have  no  correspondent  pains,  when  there  is 
no  disappointed  hope  or  longing  ;  to  acquire  is  al- 
ways agreeable — but  non-acquisition  is  not  felt  as  a 
pain.  (IB)  4.  The  pleasures  of  power  are  in  the  same 
case.  Their  possession  is  a  good  ;  their  simple  ab- 
sence is  not  an  evil — it  is  never  felt  as  an  evil,  but 
under  particular  circumstances,  such  as  privation,  or 
disappointed  hope. 

(17)  Quere. — For  what  is  lassitude,  or  that  weariness  of  place  or  habit,  of 
sound  or  food  which  we  call  sameness  ?    And  so  of  the  other  classes.    N. 

(18)  Quere.     What  is  covetousness  ? — being,  a  desire  that  cannot  be  satis- 
fied, like  the  desire  of  pleasure.    N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  231 


CH  APT  ER    VII. 

OF     PAINS     AND     PLEASURES     CONSIDERED     AS     SANCTIONS, 

WE  cannot  influence  the  will  but  by  motives ;  and 
he  who  speaks  of  motive,  speaks  of  pain  or  pleasure. 
A  being  whom  we  could  not  cause  to  feel  either  pain 
or  pleasure,  would  be  entirely  independent  of  us. 
The  pain  or  pleasure  that  is  attached  to  the  obser- 
vation of  a  law,  forms  what  is  called  the  sanction  of 
that  law.  The  laws  of  one  state  are  not  laws  in 
another,  having  no  sanction  in  that  other — no  bind- 
ing force. 

We  may  divide  good  and  evil  into  four  classes. 

1.  Physical. 

2.  Moral. 

3.  Political. 

4.  Religious. 

We  may  consequently  distinguish  four  sanctions  in 
considering  these  varieties  of  good  and  evil,  under 
the  character  of  punishment  and  reward  attached  to 
certain  rules  of  conduct. 

1.  The  pains  and  pleasures  that  we  may  experi- 
ence or  expect  in  the  ordinary  course  of  Nature,  act- 
ing by  herself  without  the  intervention  of  man,  com- 
pose the  physical  or  natural  sanction. 

2.  The  pains  or  the  pleasures  that  we  may  experi- 
ence or  expect  from  men,  by  reason  of  their  hatred, 
or  their  friendship,  of  their  esteem   or  contempt,  of 
their  spontaneous  disposition  with  regard  to  us,  com- 
pose the  moral  sanction.     We  may  call  this  the  popu- 
lar sanction,  the  sanction  of  the  public  opinion,  (19)  the 

(19)  Elsewhere  Mr.  Bentham  has  called  this,  \vithgreat  propriety,  the  pub- 
lic-opinion-tribunal. N. 


232  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

sanction  of  honor,  the  sanction  of  the  pains  and  plea- 
sures of  sympathy.* 

3.  The  pains  or  the  pleasures  that  we  may  expe- 
rience, or  expect  from  the  magistrates,  by  reason  of 
the  laws,  compose  the  political  sanction;    it  may  be 
called  the  legal  sanction. 

4.  The  pains  and  the  pleasures  that  we  may  expe- 
rience, or  expect,  by  reason  of  the  menaces  and  pro- 
mises of  religion,  compose  the  religious  sanction. 

A  man  has  his  house  destroyed  by  fire.  Is  it  the 
effect  of  his  imprudence  ?  It  is  a  pain  derived  from 
the  natural  sanction.  Is  it  by  the  sentence  of  a 
judge  ?  It  is  a  pain  derived  from  the  political  sanc- 
tion. Is  it  the  malevolent  work  of  his  neighbours? 
It  is  a  pain  of  the  popular  sanction.  Does  he  ima- 
gine it  an  immediate  act  of  the  offended  divinity ;  it 
will  then  be  a  pain  of  the  religious  sanction,  or  vul- 
garly speaking,  a  judgment  of  God. 

We  see  by  this  example  that  the  same  natural 
pains  are  connected  with  all  the  sanctions.  (20)  The 
difference  is  only  on  the  circumstances  which  produce 
them. 

This  classification  will  be  of  the  greatest  use  in 
the  progress  of  this  work;  it  is  an  easy  and  uniform 
nomenclature,  absolutely  necessary  for  separating  and 
characterising  by  a  proper  denomination,  the  different 
sorts  of  moral-powers  of  intellectual-levers  which 
form  the  mechanics  of  the  human  heart. 

These  four  sanctions  do  not  operate  upon  all  man- 
kind in  the  same  manner,  nor  with  the  same  degree 
of  force;  they  are  sometimes  rivals,  sometimes  allies, 
and  sometimes  enemies:  when  they  agree,  they  work 
with  irresistible  force  ;  when  they  are  at  war,  they 
reciprocally  enfeeble  each  other ;  when  they  are  ri- 

*  The  pains  and  pleasures  of  sympathy  may  be  considered  as  forming  a  dis- 
tinct sanction.  D. 

(20)  Dumont  says — que  les  memes  peines  en  nature  appartiennent  a 
toutes  les  sanctions.  N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF    LEGISLATION.  233 

vals,  they  lead  to  uncertainty  and  contradiction  in  the 
behaviour  of  men. 

We  might  imagine  four  different  bodies  of  law 
corresponding  to  these  four  sanctions.  It  would  be 
carrying  them  to  the  highest  degree  of  perfection,  if 
the  whole  four  were  united  in  one.  But  this  event 
is  yet  afar  off,  though  it  may  not  be  impossible. 
The  legislator  ought  to  keep  in  mind  perpetually  that 
he  has  to  do  only  with  the  political  sanction.  The 
three  other  powers  will  be  necessarily  its  rivals  or 
its  allies,  its  adversaries  or  its  ministers.  If  he  neg- 
lects them  in  his  calculation,  he  will  be  deceived  in 
his  results ;  but  if  he  can  cause  them  to  concur  in 
the  promotion  of  his  views,  he  will  operate  with  pro- 
digious power.  He  cannot  hope  to  unite  them,  un- 
less it  be  under  the  standard  of  Utility. 

The  natural  sanction  is  the  only  one  which  acts 
forever,  the  only  one  which  acts  of  itself,  the  only 
one  which  is  immoveable  in  its  principal  character- 
istics ;  it  is  that  which  insensibly  draws  to  itself  all 
the  others,  which  corrects  all  their  errors,  and  pro- 
duces whatever  there  is  of  uniformity  in  the  opinions 
and  judgments  of  men. 

The  popular  and  religious  sanctions  are  more  move- 
able,  more  changeable,  and  more  dependent  upon  the 
caprices  of  the  human  mind.  The  force  of  the  popu- 
lar sanction  is  more  equable,  more  permanent,  more 
inexorable,  (21)  and  more  constantly  accordant  with 
the  principle  of  utility.  The  force  of  the  religious 
sanction  is  more  unequal,  more  variable  (according 
to  times  and  persons)  and  more  subject  to  dangerous 
errors.  It  is  weakened  by  repose  and  excited  by 
opposition. 

The  political  sanction  is  superior,  on  some  ac- 
counts, to  both  the  others:  it  acts  with  a  more  equal 
force  upon  all  mankind  ;  its  precepts  are  more 
clear  and  precise;  its  operations  more  sure  and  more 

(21)  Plus  sourde. 

30 


234  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

exemplary  ;  in  a  word,  it  is  more  capable  of  perfec- 
tion. Every  step  has  an  immediate  influence  upon 
the  progress  of  the  other  two,  but  it  is  confined 
to  actions  of  a  certain  kind  ;  it  has  not  effect 
enough  upon  the  private  conduct  of  individuals  ;  it 
cannot  proceed  but  upon  proofs,  which  it  is  often 
impossible  to  obtain,  and  it  is  evaded  by  conceal- 
ment, by  force,  or  by  fraud.  Thus,  whether  we  ex- 
amine in  these  different  sanctions  what  they  do,  or 
what  they  cannot  do,  we  see  the  necessity  of  not  re- 
jecting any,  but  of  employing  all,  in  directing  them 
toward  the  same  end. 

They  are  loadstones,  the  virtue  of  which  is  destroy- 
ed in  suffering  their  opposite  poles  to  touch,  while 
that  virtue  is  increased  tenfold  by  bringing  them  to- 
gether by  their  correspondent  poles. 

We  may  observe,  in  passing,  that  the  systems 
which  have  most  divided  mankind,  have  been  built 
only  on  an  exclusive  preference  of  the  one  or  the 
other  of  these  sanctions.  Each  has  had1  its  par- 
tizans,  who  have  sought  to  elevate  it  above  the 
others.  Each  has  had  its  enemies  who  have  labour- 
ed to  degrade  it,  in  showing  its  weak  points,  in  mag- 
nifying its  errors,  in  recording  all  the  evil  which  has 
proceeded  from  it,  without  paying  any  attention  to 
the  good.  Such  is  the  true  theory  of  those  paradox- 
es, whereby  nature  is  put  in  array  against  society, 
politics  against  religion,  religion  against  nature  and 
government. 

Each  of  these  sanctions  is  susceptible  of  error,  that 
is  to  say,  of  some  application  contrary  to  the  principle 
of  utility  ;  but,  in  following  the  nomenclature  which 
has  just  been  explained,  it  would  be  easy  to  indicate 
the  source  of  danger  by  a  single  word.  Thus,  for 
example,  the  opprobrium  which,  after  the  punish- 
ment of  a  criminal,  rests  upon  an  innocent  family,  is 
an  error  of  the  popular  sanction.  (22)  The  offence  of 

(22)   Query.    For  it  certainly  does  appear  to  be  a  law  of  nature  in  the  first 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  335 

usury,  that  is  to  say,  of  taking  interest  above  the  le- 
gal interest,  is  an  error  of  the  political  sanction.  (23) 
Heresy  and  magic  are  errors  of  the  religious  sanc- 
tion. Certain  sympathies  and  antipathies  are  errors 
of  the  natural  sanction.  The  first  germ  of  the  mal- 
ady is  in  some  one  of  these  four  sanctions,  from 
which  it  is  often  communicated  to  all  the  rest.  It 

place  that  children  shall  inherit  of  their  fathers  the  evil  with  the  good;  their 
wealth  and  their  poverty,  their  good  as  well  as  their  bad  character,  their  health 
and  their  diseases.  Nor  would  it  appear  so  certainly  and  so  indisputably  un- 
just, if  we  were  to  consider  that  with  all  the  sanctions  that  do  exist,  men  still 
persevere  in  degrading  themselves;  and  that,  as  all  men  care  more  or  less  for 
their  posterity,  it  would  be  taking  away  from  that  which  is  already  inefficient,  if 
we  were  always  to  treat  the  children  of  a  bad  man  as  we  do  those  of  a  good  man. 
The  fathers  ate  sour  grapes  and  the  children's  teeth  were  set  on  edge,  does  not 
appear  to  me  either  so  unjust  or  so  impolitic;  nor  would  I  say  that  punishing  the 
children  for  the  fault  of  the  father,  as  the  father  is  punished  for  the  fault  of  the 
child  in  many  cases,  would  be  unrighteous.  Why  not  make  one  a  hostage  for 
the  other  ?  Why  not  regard  every  child  as  in  some  degree  what  he  is — a  pledge 
for  the  good  behaviour  of  the  father  ?  N. 

And  here  I  may  be  allowed  to  add  the  hasty  note  of  a  friend,  who  saw  this 
proof. 

NOTE. — I  must  say  that  I  cannot  agree  with  you  here,  and  that  the  sub- 
ject is  of  great  importance.  In  the  first  place, — A  man  may  be  deficient  io 
judgment,  and  innocently  commit  an  act  that  may  bring  disgrace  upon  his  family 
and  his  immediate  posterity.  He  may  be  wicked,  and  indifferent  to  the  fate 
of  his  children.  He  may  have  clear  perceptions  of  right  and  wrong,  yet  af- 
flicted with  evil  propensities  that  he  cannot  control,  even  when  persuaded  that 
his  innocent  offspring  may  suffer  for  his  weakness.  Now,  shall  an  unborn  gene- 
ration that  can  have  no  possible  influence  upon  the  circumstances  that  attend 
its  own  entrance  upon  this  scene  of  existence,  be  subject  to  a  penalty  for  the 
offence  of  a  race  that  has  gone  before  ?  when  if  the  punishment  have  any  ef- 
fect upon  the  mind  of  the  victim  other  than  gratuitous  suffering  for  the  time,  it 
must  be  discouragement,  perhaps  despair.  And  examine  the  consequences, — 
vengeance  must  continue  to  fall  upon  succeeding,  and  as  it  relates  to  the  crimes 
of  their  progenitors,  innocent  generations,  to  the  end  of  time. 

I  am  in  a  great  hurry  and  therefore  diffuse  and  inconclusive — but  think  once 
more  I  beg  of  you. 

ANSWER. — If  it  can  be  shown  that  the  parent  sinned  unwittingly,  his  off- 
spring do  not  suffer  and  should  not  suffer,  except  so  far  as  all  unfortunate  and 
therefore  suspected  persons  do.  If  he  sinned  wilfully,  and  careless  of  all  con- 
sequences to  his  posterity,  what  then  ?  They  do  suffer,  and  I  contend  that  they 
ought  to  suffer — not  much  to  be  sure — but  enough  to  prove  that  honesty  is  the 
best  policy,  not  only  for  ourselves  but  for  our  children;  at  least  enough  to  put 
the  public  upon  enquiry  if  nothing  more.  In  the  absence  of  other  knowledge, 
would  not  my  friend  be  more  wary  of  a  man  whose  father  was  a  notorious 
thief,  than  of  one  whose  father  was  proverbial  for  good  faith  ?  If  he  would, 
then  we  are  both  of  a  like  opinion  so  far.  The  only  question  between  us  now, 
is  about  the  nature  and  extent  of  the  punishment — or  disqualification — or 
doubt,  call  it  what  you  please,  which  would  rest  on  the  offspring.  N. 

(23)  Is  it  not  partly  religious,  partly  political  ?  The  Jews,  and  we  after 
them,  have  made  it  altogether  n  religious  nfFiir:  others  regard  it  ns  altogether 
political.  N. 


236  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

is  necessary  in  every  case  however,  to  find  out  the 
origin  of  the  evil,  before  choosing  and  applying  a 
remedy.* 

*  Some  persons  may  be  astonished  that,  in  speaking  of  the  moral  sanction, 
nothing  is  said  of  conscience.  A  sufficient  reason  for  not  employing  that 
word  is  in  its  vagueness  and  confusedness.  In  the  most  common  sense,  it  ex- 
presses either  the  union  of  the  four  sanctions,  or  the  pre-eminence  of  the  reli- 
gious sanction.  To  have  but  one  and  the  same  term  for  expressing  four  sorts 
of  moral  powers,  each  very  distinct  from  the  rest,  and  sometimes  opposed  to 
them,  is  to  lead  the  way  to  interminable  disputes. 

In  sentimental  and  practical  m  >rality,  it  is  common  to  personify  conscience: 
it  commands,  it  prohibits,  it  rewards,  it  punishes,  it  wakes,  it  sleeps.  In, 
philosophical  language,  we  are  to  reject  these  figurative  expressions,  and  sub- 
stitute proper  terms,  that  is  to  say,  the  impression  of  pains  and  pleasures,  which 
proceed  from  such  or  such  a  sanction.  B. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  237 


CHAPTER     VIII. 

OF   THE   VALUE   OF   PLEASURES   AND   PAINS. 

To  multiply  pleasures,  to  diminish  pains — such  is 
the  whole  business  of  the  legislator.  Their  value 
should  be  well  known  therefore.  Pleasures  and 
pains  are  the  only  instruments  that  can  be  employed: 
Their  power  should  be  well  studied,  therefore. 

If  we  examine  the  value  of  a  pleasure  consider- 
ed in  itself,  and  with  relation  to  one  single  indi- 
vidual, we  shall  find  it  to  depend  on  four  circum- 
stances. 

J.  Its  intensity. 

2.  Its  duration. 

3.  Its  certainty. 

4.  Its  pi'Qximity. 

The  value  of  a  pain  depends  upon  the  same  cir- 
cumstances. 

But,  in  fact,  it  is  not  enough  to  examine  the  value 
of  pains,  or  of  pleasures,  as  if  they  were  isolated 
and  independent :  pains  and  pleasures  may  have  con- 
sequences, which  will  be  in  their  turn,  pains  and 
pleasures.  If  therefore,  we  wish  to  calculate  the 
tendency  of  an  act  from  which  results  an  immediate 
pain  or  pleasure,  we  must  take  into  view  two  other 
circumstances. 

5.  \tsfruitfulness. 

6.  Its  purity. 

Fruitful  pleasure :  that  which  has  a  chance  to  be 
followed  by  pleasures  of  the  same  sort. 

Fruitful  pain :  that  which  has  a  chance  of  being 
followed  with  pains  of  the  same  sort. 

Pure  pleasure  :  that  which  has  no  chance  of  pro- 
ducing pain. 


238  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

Pure  pain :  that  which  has  no  chance  of  produc- 
ing pleasure. 

When  the  above  estimation  is  to  refer  to  a  col- 
lection of  individuals,  we  are  to  add  another  circum- 
stance. 

7.  Extent :  that  is  to  say.  the  number  of  persons 
who  are  afflicted  by  such  pain  or  pleasure. 

Would  one  estimate  the  value  of  an  action  ?  He 
must  follow  in  detail  the  operations  that  have  just 
been  described.  They  are  the  elements  of  the  mo- 
ral calculation,  and  legislation  becomes  a  matter  of 
arithmetic.  The  evil  caused  is  the  expense  :  the 
good  that  one  produces  is  the  profit.  Th",  rules  for 
this  calculation  are  the  same  as  in  every  other. 

It  is  a  slow  but  sure  way  :  What  is  called  senti- 
ment is  more  rapid  but  liable  to  go  astray.  But  we 
are  not  obliged  to  renew  the  whole  process  on  every 
occasion:  When  we  are  familiar  with  it, when  we  have 
acquired  the  judgment  which  results  from  such  famili- 
arity with  it,  we  compare  the  sum-total  of  good,  and 
the  sum-total  of  mischief,  with  so  much  promptitude 
as  not  to  perceive  the  items  of  the  reasoning.  (24) 
We  do  the  sum  without  knowing  it.  The  analyti- 
cal method  becomes  necessary  whenever  a  new  or 
complicated  operation  is  to  be  performed,  or  when  it 
is  necessary  to  clear  up  a  contested  point,  to  teach  or 
demonstrate  a  truth  to  the  ignorant. 

This  theory  of  moral  calculation  has  never  been 
fully  explained ;  but  it  has  always  been  followed  in 
practice  ;  at  least,  wherever  men  have  had  a  clear 
idea  of  their  own  interest.  What  constitutes  the 
value  of  a  lot  of  ground  ?  Is  it  not  the  amount  of 
pleasure  to  be  drawn  from  it  ?  And  does  not  that 
value  vary  according  to  the  greater  or  less  duration 
that  we  are  able  to  promise  ourselves  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  it? — according  to  the  proximity  or  distance 

(24)  Just  as  we  perceive  at  once  that  600  is  more  than  500.     N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  239 

of  the  period,  when  we  are  to  enter  into  the  enjoy- 
ment ? — according  to  the  certainty  or  uncertainty  of 
the  possession? 

Errors  in  the  moral  conduct  of  men,  or  in  legisla- 
tion, may  always  be  referred  to  some  circumstances 
which  have  been  unknown,  forgotten,  or  badly  appre- 
ciated in  the  calculation  of  good  and  evil. 


240  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

SECTION    I. 

OF       THE       CIRCUMSTANCES       WHICH       INFLUENCE 
SENSIBILITY. 

EVERY  cause  of  pleasure  does  not  give  to  every 
person  the  same  pleasure :  Every  cause  of  pain  does 
not  give  to  every  person  the  same  pain.  The  dif- 
ference of  sensibility  is  the  cause  of  this.  That  dif- 
ference is  in  the  degree  or  in  the  kind  :  in  the  de- 
gree, when  the  impression  of  one  and  the  same  cause 
upon  many  individuals  is  uniform  but  unequal:  in  the 
species,  when  the  same  cause  produces  in  different 
individuals  different  sensations.  (25) 

That  difference  in  sensibility  depends  upon  cer- 
tain circumstances,  which  influence  the  physical  or 
moral  state  of  individuals,  and  which,  if  they  were 
changed,  would  produce  an  analogous  change  in 
their  manner  of  feeling.  This  is  proved  by  expe- 
rience. Things  do  not  affect  us  in  the  same  W7ay, 
in  sickness  and  in  health ;  in  poverty  and  in  pros- 
perity ;  in  youth  and  in  old  age.  But  a  general 
view  is  not  enough:  We  must  enter  more  profound- 
ly into  the  analysis  of  the  human  heart.  Lyonet 
made  a  book  in  quarto  upon  the  anatomy  of  a  cat- 
erpillar :  in  morals  there  has  been  no  such  patient 
and  philosophical  investigator.  I  have  not  the  cour- 
age to  imitate  him.  I  shall  do  enough  perhaps,  if  I 

(25)  Uniforme,  mais  inrgale,  says  M.  Dumont — meaning,  alike  in  nature 
though  not  in  degree.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION,  241 

open  a  new  prospect,  and  suggest  a  better  path  to 
such  as  are  willing  to  proceed  further. 

1.  The  foundation  of  the  whole  is  the  tempera- 
ment or  original  constitution,  by  which  I  understand 
the  radical  and  primitive    disposition  that  each  has 
at  birth,  which  depends  upon  the  physical  organiza- 
tion and  the  nature  of  the  mind.* 

But  although  that  radical  constitution  may  be  the 
foundation  of  all  the  rest,  that  foundation  is  so  con- 
cealed, that  it  is  very  difficult  to  penetrate  to  it  and 
divide  what  belongs  to  that  cause  from  what  belongs 
to  all  the  rest. 

Let  us  leave  to  physiologists  to  distinguish  these 
temperaments,  to  follow  their  mixture,  and  to  trace 
their  effects.  They  are  a  territory  too  little  known 
at  present,  for  the  legislator  or  the  moralist. 

2.  Health.     We  must   define   health   negatively* 
It  is  the  absence  of  every  sensation  of  pain  and  un- 
easiness ;  the  first  symptoms  of  which  may  be  refer- 
red to  any  part  of  the  body.     As  to  sensibility  in 
general,  we  observe  that  the  sick  man  is  less  sensible 
to  the  influence  of  the  causes  of  pleasure,  and  more 
sensible  to  the  causes  of  pain. 

3.  Strength.     Although    connected    with    health, 
strength  is   a  circumstance  apart,  since  a  man  may 
be  weak,  in  proportion  to  the  average  force  of  men, 
without  being  sick.     The  degree  of  strength  is  capa- 
ble of  being   measured  with  sufficient  exactness   by 
the  lifting  of  weights  and  by  other  proofs.     Weak- 
ness is  sometimes    a  negative  term,  signifying  the 

*  Although  many  philosophers  acknowledge  but  one  substance,  and  re- 
gard this  division  as  purely  nominal*  they  will  grant  us  this  at  least — namely — 
that  if  the  spirit  is  a  part  of  the  body,  it  is  a  part  very  different  by  nature  from 
the  others.  Considerable  alterations  of  the  body  strike  the  senses;  the  great- 
est alterations  of  the  mind  do  not.  From  a  resemblance  of  organization,  we 
cannot  infer  intellectual  resemblance.  The  motions  of  the  body  are  regarded, 
it  is  true,  as  probable  indications  of  what  is  passing  in  the  soul,  but  they  are 
not  conclusive.  How  many  are  there  who  can  put  on  all  the  outward  show  of 
sensibility,  without  feeling  any  thing.  Cromwell,  that  man  inaccessible  to  pity, 
shed  tears  at  pleasure.  B. 

31 


242  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

absence  of  strength,  and  sometimes  a  relative  term, 
expressing;  that  such  an  individual  is  less  strong  than 
such  another  to  whom  he  is  compared. 

4.  Bodily   imperfections.     I   understand   by   this, 
some  remarkable  deformity,  or  the  privation  of  some 
member,  and  of  some  faculty,  which  well  organized 
men  commonly  enjoy.     Particular  effects  upon  sensi- 
bility depend  upon  the  kind  of  imperfection.     The 
general  effect  is  to  diminish,  more  or  less,  agreeable 
impressions,  and  to  aggravate,  more  or  less,  painful 
impressions. 

5.  The  degree  of  intelligence.     I    understand    by 
this,  the  knowledge  or  the  ideas  that  an  individual 
possesses;    that  is    to    say,  the    knowledge    or    the 
quantity  of  interesting  ideas,  those   which  are  of  a 
nature  to  influence  his  happiness  and  that  of  others. 
The    enlightened    man  is  he  who  possesses    a    large 
share  of  these  important  ideas  :   the  ignorant  is  he 
who  possesses  few  and  of  little  importance. 

6.  Power  of  the  intellectual  faculties.      The   de- 
gree of  facility  with  which  we  recall  acquired  ideas, 
or  acquire  new  ones,  constitutes  the  measure  of  in- 
telligence.    Different  qualities  of  mind  are  concern- 
ed in  this,  such  as  exactness  of  memory,-  power  of 
attention,  clearness  of  discernment,  vivacity  of  imagi- 
nation, etc. 

7.  Firmness  of  soul.     We  attribute  this  quality 
to  a  man  when   he   is  less   affected   by  immediate 
pleasures  or  pains,  than  by  great  pleasures  or  great 
pains  that  are  distant  and  uncertain.    When  Turenne, 
seduced  by  the  blandishment  of  a  woman,  revealed 
to  her  a  secret  of  state,  he  wanted  firmness  of  soul. 
The  young  Lacedemonians  who  suffered  themselves 
to  be  torn  with  rods  at  the  altar  of  Diana,  without 
uttering  a  cry,  proved  that  the  fear  of  shame  and  the 
hope  of  glory  had  more  influence  upon  them,  than  the 
most  acute  actual  pain. 

8.  Perseverance.    A  circumstance  referring  to  the 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  243 

time  during  which  a  given  motive  acts  upon  the  will 
with  a  uniform  force.  We  say  of  a  man  that  he 
wants  perseverance,  when  the  motive  which  causes 
him  to  act,  loses  all  its  force  without  our  being  able 
to  attribute  the  change  to  any  exterior  event,  or  to 
any  reason  which  ought  to  weaken  it ;  or  when  he 
is  of  a  temper  to  yield  one  after  another  to  a  great 
variety  of  motives.  It  is  in  this  way  that  children 
get  angry  with  and  weary  of  their  toys. 

9.  The    tendency    of  the    inclinations.     The   idea 
that  we  form  beforehand  of  a  pleasure  or  of  a  pain, 
has  much  influence  upon  the  manner  in  which   we 
are  affected,  when  we  come  to  experience  that  pain 
or    pleasure.      The   effect   does    not   always    corre- 
spond with  the  expectation  ;  but  in  the  most  com- 
mon cases  it  does.     The  value  of  possession,  where 
a  female  is  concerned,  is  not  to  be  estimated  by  her 
beauty,  but  by  the  passion,  of   her  lover.     Do  we 
know  the  partialities  of  a  man  ?     We  may  calculate 
with  a  degree  of  certainty,  the  pains  or  the  pleasures 
that  a  given  event  will  cause  him.* 

10.  Notions  of  honour.     We  call  honour  a  sensi- 
bility to   the   pains  and   pleasures  that  are  derived 
from  the  opinion  of  other  men,  that  is  to  say,  from 
their  esteem  or  contempt.     The  ideas  of  honour  vary 
much  with  nations  and  with  individuals.     It  may  be 
proper  to  ascertain,  first,  the  power  of  the  motive, 
and  secondly,  its  direction. 

1 1 .  Notions  of  religion.     We  know  how  far  sen- 
sibility may  be  augmented  or  meliorated  by  religious 
ideas.     It  is  at  the  birth  of  religion  that  we  observe 
the  greatest  effects.     The  kind-hearted  have  become 

C? 

sanguinary,  the  pusillanimous  intrepid  ;  nations  of 
slaves  have  become  freed,  and  savages  have  received 
the  yoke  of  civilization  :  nothing,  in  a  word,  has  pro- 

*  The  four  following  circumstances  are  but  subdivisions  of  the  principal 
one:  the  inclinations,  the  passions,  considered  with  respect  to  certain  determi- 
nate pleasures  and  pains.  D. 


244  DUMONT'3   BENTIIAM. 

duced  such  prompt  and  extraordinary  effects  upon 
men.  As  to  the  particular  bias  that  religion  may 
give  to  individuals,  the  variety  is  wonderful. 

12.  Sentiments  of  sympathy.  I  call  sympathy 
that  disposition,  which  leads  us  to  take  pleasure  in 
the  happiness  of  other  sentient  beings,  and  to  com- 
passionate their  sufferings.  If  that  disposition  shows 
itself  toward  one  single  individual,  we  call  it  friend- 
ship ;  if  it  shows  itself  toward  those  who  suffer,  it 
receives  the  name  of  pity  or  compassion  ;  if  it  em- 
braces only  a  subordinate  class  of  individuals,  it  con- 
stitutes what  is  called  party-spirit — esprit  de  corps  ; 
if  it  embraces  the  whole  nation,  it  is  public-spirit, 
patriotism;  if  it  extends  to  all  mankind,  it  is  hu-> 
inanity. 

But  the  part  of  sympathy  which  is  most  conspicu- 
ous in  common  life,  is  that  which  fixes  the  affections 
upon  assignable  individuals,  such  as  parents,  children, 
a  husband,  a  wife,  or  intimate  friends.  Its  general 
effect  is  to  increase  our  sensibility  both  to  pain  and  to 
pleasure. 

The  meaning  of  the  word  Me  becomes  more  ex- 
tensive ;  it  ceases  to  be  solitary,  it  becomes  collect" 
ive.  We  enjoy  a  double  life  as  it  were,  in  ourselves 
and  in  them  that  we  love  ;  nor  is  it  impossible  for 
us  to  love  ourselves  more  in  others  than  in  ourselves  ; 
to  be  less  sensible  to  the  events  that  concern  us,  by 
their  immediate  effect  upon  us,  than  by  their  impres- 
sion  upon  those  who  are  attached  to  us ;  to  prove 
that  the  bitterest  part  of  our  affliction  is  the  grief 
that  it  causes  to  those  who  love  us,  and  that  the 
greatest  charm  of  personal  success  is  the  pleasure 
that  their  joy  gives  to  us.  Such  are  the  phenomena 
of  sympathy.  Sentiments  received  and  communi- 
cated are  augmented  by  such  intercommunication, 
as  mirrors  disposed  in  a  manner  to  reflect  the  rays 
of  light,  gather  them  into  a  common  focus  and  pro- 
duce a  much  greater  degree  of  heat  by  their  recip- 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  245 

rocal  reflection.  The  power  of  these  sympathies  is 
one  of  the  reasons  which  have  caused  legislators  to 
prefer  the  married  men  to  the  unmarried  ;  and  the 
fathers  of  a  family  to  those  who  have  no  children. — 
The  law  has  much  more  control  over  them  than 
could  be  hoped  for  in  a  wider  sphere  ;  for  the  for- 
mer, besides  being  interested  in  the  happiness  of 
those  who  are  to  survive,  unite  the  present  with  the 
future  in  their  thoughts,  while  men  who  have  not  the 
same  ties,  have  only  a  life-interest  in  every  thing. 

As  to  the  sympathy  produced  by  the  relationship 
of  a  parent,  we  are  to  observe  that  it  operates  inde- 
pendently of  affection.  The  honour  acquired  by  the 
father  extends  itself  to  the  son  :  the  shame  of  the 
son  is  reflected  upon  the  father.  The  members  of  a 
family,  although  disunited  in  interests,  and  in  inclin- 
ation, have  a  common  sensibility  to  whatever  con- 
cerns the  honor  of  each. 

13,  Antipathies.  Antipathies  are  opposed  to  all  the 
enlarged  and  affectionate  feelings  of  which  we  have 
just  been  treating.     But  there  are  natural  and  con- 
stant   sources    of  sympathy  :     we    find    them    every 
where,  at  all  times,  in  all  circumstances,  while  anti- 
pathies are  but  accidental,  and  consequently  fleeting: 
Thus  they  vary  according  to  time,  place,  events  and 
persons — having  nothing  fixed  and  determined.     Ne- 
verthless  these  two  principles  correspond  sometimes 
and  mutually  aid  each  other.     Humanity  may  render 
the  inhuman  hateful  to  us  :    friendship  engages  us  to 
hate  the  adversaries  of  our  friends  ;  and  antipathy  it- 
self becomes  a  source  of  union  between  two  persons 
who  have  a  common  enemy. 

14.  Madness,  or  derangement  of  mind.     The  imper- 
fections of  the  mind  may  he  reduced  to  those  of  igno- 
rance, weakness,  irritability,  and  inconstancy.     What 
we  call  madness  is  an  extraordinary  degree  of  imper- 
fection— as  striking  to  all  the  world,  as  the  most  de- 


246  DUMOJNT'S  BENTHAM. 

cided  corporeal  defect ;  it  produces  not  only  all  the 
imperfections  above-named,  and  carries  them  to  ex- 
cess, but  it  gives  an  absurd  and  dangerous  turn  to  the 
affections. 

The  sensibility  of  the  maniac  is  excessive,  on  a 
certain  point,  while  about  every  thing  else  he  is  in- 
different :  he  appears  to  feel  an  excessive  distrust,  a 
dangerous  malignity,  and  to  be  wholly  destitute  of 
benevolence  :  He  has  no  respect  lor  himself  nor  for 
others  ;*  he  is  not  insensible  to  fear  nor  to  good 
treatment:  he  is  subdued  by  firmness,  at  the  same 
time  that  he  is  soothed  by  mildness;  but  he  does  not 
look  to  the  future,  and  is  operated  upon  only  by  im- 
mediate means. 

15.  Pecuniary  circumstances.  They  are  composed  of 
the  sum  total  of  means  compared  with  the  sum  total 
of  wmts. 

Means  comprehend.  1.  Property — what  one  has 
without  labor  :  2.  Profits  resulting  from  labor  ;  pe- 
cuniary succor  that  one  may  gratuitously  expect  from 
parents  or  friends. 

Wants  depend  on  four  circumstances.  1.  Habits 
of  expense — above  those  habits  we  find  the  superflu- 
ous ;  below,  privation  :  the  greater  part  of  our  de- 
sires exist  only  by  the  remembrance  of  some  anterior 
enjoyment.  2.  Persons  with  whom  we  are  charged, 
by  the  law  or  by  public  opinion,  children,  poor  rela- 
tions, and  old  servants.  3.  Unforeseen  wants  :  this 
sum  may  amount  to  more  at  one  time  than  at  another ; 
tor  example,  if  it  be  necessary  for  an  important  law- 
suit, or  a  voyage  on  which  the  welfare  of  a  family 
may  depend.  4.  The  expectation  of  profit,  of  inhe- 
ritance, &c.  It  is  clear  that  some  hopes  of  fortune 
are,  in  proportion  to  their  force,  actual  wants,  and 
that  their  loss  may  affect  one  almost  as  much  as  that 

*  II  brave  les  biens  anees  et  les  egards.    D. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  247 

of  a  property  of  which  one  was  to  have  had  the  en- 
joyment. 


SECTION    II. 

SECONDARY       CIRCUMSTANCES       WHICH       INFLUENCE 
OUR       SENSIBILITY. 

AUTHORS  who  have  tried  to  explain  the  difference 
in  sensibility,  have  referred  it  to  certain  circumstances, 
of  which  we  have  not  hitherto  made  mention;  these 
circumstances  are,  sex,  age,  rank,  education,  habitual 
pursuits,  climate,  race,  government,  religion  ;  all  very 
apparent,  very  easy  to  observe,  very  convenient  for 
explaining  the  divers  phenomena  of  sensibility.  But, 
after  all,  these  are  but  secondary  circumstances;  they 
are  not  reasons  of  themselves ;  they  require  to  be 
explained  by  primary  circumstances  which  are  found 
united  together  in  them;  each  of  these  secondary 
circumstances  contains  in  itself  many  primary  cir- 
cumstances. Thus,  do  we  speak  of  the  influence  of 
sex  upon  the  sensibility  ? — It  is  to  recall  by  a  single 
word  the  primary  circumstances  of  strength,  of  in- 
telligence, of  firmness  of  soul,  of  perseverance,  of 
the  ideas  of  honour,  the  sentiments  of  sympathy,  etc, 
Do  we  speak  of  the  influence  of  rank?  We  under- 
stand by  that  word,  a  certain  assemblage  of  prima- 
ry circumstances,  such  as  the  degree  of  knowledge, 
ideas  of  honour,  ties  of  family,  habitual  occupations, 
pecuniary  circumstances.  It  is  the  same  with  all 
the  others;  each  one  of  these  secondary  circum- 
stances may  be  translated  by  a  certain  number  of 
primary  ones.  This  distinction,  though  essential,  has 
never  been  analyzed.  Let  us  proceed  to  a  more  de- 
tailed examination. 


248  DUMONT'S    BENTHAM. 

1.  Sex.  The  sensibility  of  women  appears  to  be 
greater  than  that  of  men;  Their  health  is  more  de- 
licate. Relatively,  in  strength  of  body,  in  the  de- 
gree of  intelligence,  in  the  intellectual  faculties,  in 
firmness  of  soul,  they  are  commonly  inferior.  Moral 
and  religious  sensibility  is  more  lively  with  them  ; 
sympathy  and  antipathy  have  more  influence  over 
them.  The  honour  of  woman  consists  more  in  chas- 
tity and  modesty ;  that  of  man  more  in  probity  and 
courage  ;  the  religion  of  the  woman  tends  more 
to  superstition,  that  is  to  say,  toward  minute  ob- 
servances. Her  affections  are  stronger  for  her  own 
children  as  long  as  they  live,  and  for  her  children  in 
general  during  their  infancy.  Women  are  more 
compassionate  toward  those  whom  they  see  suffer, 
and  are  attached  to  an  object  by  the  very  anxieties 
that  object  may  give  them  ;  but  their  benevolence 
is  limited  by  a  narrower  circle,  and  has  less  to  do 
with  the  principles  of  utility.  It  is  rare  for  them 
to  embrace  in  their  affections  the  well-being  of  their 
country  in  general,  yet  more  that  of  humanity  ;  and 
the  interest  even  which  they  feel  toward  a  party,  de- 
pends almost  always  on  private  sympathy.  In  all 
their  attachments  and  antipathies,  more  caprice  and 
imagination  is  found,  while  man  has  more  regard  to 
personal  interest  or  to  public  utility.  Their  habitual 
occupations  are  more  peaceable  and  more  sedentary. 
The  general  result  is,  that  woman  is  better  in  her 
family  ;  man  more  suited  to  the  affairs  of  state.  (26) 
Household  economy  is  better  understood  by  the 
woman;  the  chief  administration  of  affairs  by  the 
man. 

(26)  It  is  a  part  of  the  theory  of  Mr.  Mill,  author  of  British-India,  and  a 
disciple  of  .Mr.  Bentham,  that  the  interest  of  women  is  included  in  that  of 
men..  But  this  is  no  part  of  the  doctrine  of  Jeremy  Benlharn.  He  sees,  and 
seeing,  he  acknowledges,  that  the  interest  of  woman  is  not  the  same  as  that 
of  man — that  on  the  contrary,  it  is  directly  opposed  to  it  in  a  variety  of  cases, 
and  that  therefore  it  should  be  protected  for  her,  and  guaranteed  to  her  by  law, 
But  more  of  this  hereafter.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  249 

2.  J$ge.    Every  period  of  life  acts  differently  upon 
sensibility :    But  how  are  we  to  estimate  this,  when 
the  limits  of  different  ages  vary  with  every  individual, 
and  are  even  arbitrary  with  regard  to  all  ?     What  we 
say  must  be  but  vague  and  general,  upon  infancy, 
childhood,  youth,  maturity,  decline  and  decrepitude,  in 
considering  them  as  divisions  of  human  life.     The  dif- 
ferent imperfections  of  the  mind,  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  are  so  striking  in  infancy,  as  to  require  a  vigi- 
lant and  perpetual  protection.    The  affections  of  youth 
and  childhood  are  prompt  and  lively,  but  little  govern- 
ed by  the  principle  of  prudence.     The  legislator  is 
obliged  to  secure  that  age    against  the  aberrations, 
which  it  is  led  into  by  want  of  experience  and  by 
the  vivacity  of  the  passions.     As  to  old  age,  it  is  on 
many    accounts   a   return   of    the    imperfections    of 
childhood. 

3.  Rank.     This  circumstance  depends  so  much 
upon  the  political  constitution  of  States,  that  it  would 
be  almost  impossible  to  offer  any  proposition  concern- 
ing it,  which  would  be  universally  true.     We  might 
say  generally  that  the  amount  of  sensibility  is  greater 
in  the  upper  than  in  the  lower  classes,  and  particular- 
ly with  regard  to  notions  of  honour. 

4.  Education.    To  physical  education  we  may  re- 
fer health,  strength  and  hardihood  ;  to  intellectual  ed- 
ucation, the  quality  and  quantity  of  knowledge,  and 
up  to  a  certain  point,  the  firmness  of  the  soul  and 
perseverance  :    to  moral  education  the    tendency  of 
the   inclinations,  with  ideas  of   honour,  of  religion, 
sentiments  of  sympathy,  etc.     We   may  ascribe  to 
education  in   general,  habitual  occupations,  amuse- 
ments,   ties,    habits  of   expense,  and   pecuniary   re- 
sources.    But  when  we  speak  of  education,  we  must 
not  forget  that  its  influence  may  be  modified  in  every 
point  of  view,  either  by  the  concurrence  of  exterior 
causes  or  by  a  natural  disposition,  which  may  render 
it  impossible  to  foresee  the  effects. 

32 


250  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

5.  Habitual  occupations — Either  of  profit   or   of 
amusement,  and  of  choice.     They  affect  all  the  other 
causes,    health,    strength,    intelligence,    inclinations, 
ideas  of  honour,  sympathies,  antipathies,  fortune,  &c. 
Thus  we  observe  traits  of  character  common  to  cer- 
tain professions,  and  particularly  in  those  that  form 
a  body  by  themselves,  ecclesiastics,  soldiers,  sailors, 
lawyers,  magistrates,  etc. 

6.  Climate.     For  a  time,  too  much  was  attributed 
to  this  cause;  then  it  was  reduced  to  nothing.     What 
renders  the  examination  difficult  is,  that  a  compa- 
rison  of   nation   with   nation   cannot    be    made    but 
upon  great  facts   which   may  be   differently  under- 
stood by  different  people.     It  appears  incontestible 
that  in  hot  climates  men   are  not  so  strong,  nor  so 
robust:  (27)  they  have  little  need  of  work,  the  earth 
being  so  fruitful;  they  are  more  carried  away  by  the 
pleasures  of  love,  the  passion  showing  itself  sooner 
and  with  more  ardor.     Their  sensibility  is  more  ac- 
tive, their  imagination  more    lively,  their  wit  more 
ready,  but  less  powerful,   less    persevering.     Their 
habitual  occupations  partake  more  of  indolence  than 
of  activity.     They  have    probably  at    their  birth  a 
physical  organization  less  vigorous,  a  temper  of  soul 
less  firm  and  less  constant. 

7.  The  Race.     A    negro   born  in    France   or  in 
England  is  a  very  different  being,  on  many  accounts, 
from  a  child  of  the    English   or    French  race.      A 
Spanish  child  born  in  Mexico  or  Peru,  is  at  the  mo- 
ment of  his  birth  very  different  from  a  Mexican  or 
Peruvian  child.  (28)     Race  may  work  with  nature, 
which  serves  for  a  foundation.     Afterwards  it  ope- 

(27)  Query  to  this.  Later  information  goes  to  show  that  in  certain  very 
warm  latitudes  people  are  prodigiously  robust,  and  that  the  country  most  fa- 
vourable to  the  tiger  and  lion  may  be,  and  not  only  may  be,  but  is  favourable 
in  the  highest  degree  to  the  physical  character  of  man.  Go  to  the  .North  how- 
ever, and  you  find  that  extreme  rigour  is  unfavourable  to  the  developement  of 
bodily  power  in  man.  N. 

(18)  On  some  accounts  he  may  be — though  not  in  colour;  perhaps  not  visi- 
bly in  shape,  or  feature.  N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  251 

rates  much  more  sensibly  upon  the  moral  and  re- 
ligious bias,  upon  the  sympathies  and  antipathies  of 
man. 

8.  The  Government.  This  circumstance  operates 
in  the  same  manner  as  education.  The  magistrate 
may  be  considered  as  a  national  preceptor ;  and  un- 
der a  clear-sighted,  and  attentive  government,  the 
particular  preceptor,  the  father  himself,  is  as  it  were, 
only  the  deputy,  the  substitute  for  the  magistrate, 
with  this  difference,  that  the  authority  of  the  one  is 
limited  to  a  certain  period  of  age,  while  that  of  the 
other  is  for  life. 

The  influence  of  this  cause  is  immense  ;  it  extends 
almost  every  where ;  or  rather,  it  embraces  every  thing 
except  temperament,  race  and  climate.  Health  it- 
self may  depend  upon  it,  in  some  measure,  on  ac- 
count of  the  police,  of  plenty,  and  of  the  care  to  re- 
move hurtful  things.  The  mode  of  directing  educa- 
tion, of  disposing  of  employments,  of  rewards,  of 
punishments,  will  determine  the  physical  and  moral 
qualities  of  a  people. 

Under  a  government  well-constituted,  or  even  but 
well-administered,  though  badly  constituted,  we  see 
that  men  are  more  governed  by  honour,  and  that  ho- 
nour is  placed  in  actions  more  conformable  to  public 
utility.  Religious  sensibility  is  more  exempt  from 
fanaticism  and  intolerance,  more  free  from  supersti- 
tion and  servile  respect.  It  forms  a  common  tie  of 
patriotism.  Men  perceive  the  existence  of  a  nation- 
al interest.  Defeated  factions  have  more  trouble  in 
raising  their  ancient  war  cry.  The  popular  affec- 
tions are  directed  rather  toward  the  magistrate, 
than  toward  the  heads  of  a  party,  and  toward  the 
whole  country  rather  than  to  any  thing  else.  Pri- 
vate vengeance  is  neither  prolonged  nor  communi- 
cated :  national  taste  is  directed  toward  useful  ex- 
penditures, voyages  of  instruction,  of  perfection  of 
agriculture,  toward  the  cultivation  of  the  sciences 


252  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

and  the  embellishment  of  the  country.  We  per- 
ceive even  in  the  productions  of  the  human  mind 
a  general  disposition  to  discuss  with  sobriety,  ques- 
tions important  to  public  happiness. 

9.  The  religious  profession.  We  may  draw  from 
this,  indications  conclusive  enough  with  regard  to 
religious  sensibility,  sympathy,  antipathy,  and  the 
ideas  of  honour  and  virtue.  We  may  in  certain  ca- 
ses even  judge  of  the  intelligence,  the  strength  or 
the  weakness  of  mind,  and  the  inclinations  of  an 
individual,  by  the  sect  to  which  he  belongs.  I  ad- 
mit that  it  is  common  to  profess  in  public,  from  good 
breeding  or  convenience,  a  religion  of  the  truth  of 
which  one  is  not  intimately  persuaded.  But  its  in- 
fluence, though  weakened,  is  not  destroyed.  The 
early  habits,  the  ties  of  society,  the  power  of  exam- 
ple, continue  to  operate,  even  after  the  principle  of 
the  whole  no  longer  exists.  That  man  who,  at  the 
bottom  of  his  heart,  has  ceased  to  be  a  Jew,  a  Qua- 
ker, an  Ana-baptist,  a  Calvinist  or  Lutheran,  will 
nevertheless  be  sure  to  retain  a  partiality  for  the 
people  of  the  same  denomination,  and  a  proportiona- 
ble antipathy  for  every  other. 


SECTION    III. 

PRACTICAL      APPLICATION      OF     THE     ABOVE      THEORY. 

As  we  cannot  calculate  the  progress  of  a  vessel, 
without  knowing  the  circumstances  which  affect  her 
swiftness,  such  as  the  strength  of  the  wind,  the  re- 
sistance of  the  water,  the  cut  of  her  hull,  the  weight 
of  her  cargo,  etc., — so,  we  cannot  work  with  safety 
on  the  subject  of  legislation  without  considering  all 
the  circumstances  which  influence  the  sensibility. 


PRINCIPLES   OV  LEGISLATION.  253 

I  confine  myself  here  to  what  concerns  the  penal 
code,  which  requires,  at  every  step,  a  scrupulous  at- 
tention to  that  diversity  of  circumstances. 

1.  How  to  estimate  the  evil  of  a  crime.     The  same 
nominal  offence  is  not  the  same  real  offence,  when 
the   sensibility  of  the  individual   injured   is   not  the 
same.     Any  action  may  be  a  grave  insult  to  a  wo- 
man ;  though  it  would  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
a  man.     Such  a  corporal  injury  as,  offered  to  a  sick 
man,  might  endanger  his  life,  would  have  no  effect 
upon  another  in  good  health.     An  imputation  which 
might  destroy  the  fortune  or  character  of  one  man, 
would  do  no  injury  to  that  of  another. 

2.  How  to  give  a  suitable  satisfaction  to  the  indi- 
vidual injured.      The   same   nominal   satisfaction    is 
not  the  same  real  satisfaction,  where  the  sensibility 
differs   essentially.     A  pecuniary  satisfaction  for  an 
affront,  may  be  either  agreeable  or  offensive,  accord- 
ing  to  the  rank  of  the  person,  to  his  fortune,  or  to 
received  prejudices.    Am  I  insulted?    A  pardon  pub- 
licly asked  of  me  by  my  superior  or  equal,  would  be 
a  complete  satisfaction;  (29)  not  so,  if  it  were  asked 
of  me  by  my  inferior. 

3.  How  to  estimate  the  force  and  impression  of  pain 
upon  a  delinquent.     The  same  nominal  pain  (punish- 
ment) is  not  the  same  real  pain,  where  the  sensibili- 
ty of  the  sufferers  differs  essentially.     Punishment 
would  not  he  the  same  to  the  young  and  to  the  old 
man,  to  the  bachelor  and  the  father  of  a  family,  to 
the  artizan  with  no  means  of  subsistence  out  of  his 
own    country,  and  to  the  rich  man,  whom  it    only 
causes  to  change  the  scene  of  pleasure.     Imprisoii- 

(29)  Our  author  does  not  mean  to  require  an  acknowledgment  from  one 
party  to  another,  much  less  that  the  party  offending  should  be  made  to  ask  par- 
don of  the  other.  But  what  he  does  require  may  be  found  in  a  late  work  of 
his,  only  a  part  of  which  has  appeared.  The  substance  of  it  occurs  under  the 
the  title  of  PRESENCE  BANISHMENT.  The  offenders  may  be  adjudged  by 
law  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  or  not  to  come  within  a  prescribed  distance  of  the 
other  party.  In  addition  to  this,  an  acknowledgment  for  the  offending  party  u 
in  some  aggravated  cases  to  be  made  by  the  judge.  N. 


254  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

ment  would  not  be  the  same  to  a  man  and  to  a  wo- 
man, to  a  person  in  health,  and  to  a  sick  person,  to 
a  rich  man  whose  family  would  not  suffer  by  his  ab- 
sence, and  to  a  man  who  lives  by  his  labour  and  would 
leave  his  in  poverty. 

4.  Transplantation  of  a  law  from  one  country  to 
another.  The  same  verbal  law  is  not  the  same  real 
law,  if  the  sensibility  of  two  people  is  not  the  same. 
A  law  of  Europe  which  constitutes  the  happiness 
of  families,  transported  to  Asia,  would  become  the 
scourge  of  society.  Women  in  Europe  are  accus- 
tomed to  liberty  and  even  to  domestic  control :  wo- 
men in  Asia  are  prepared  by  their  education  for  the 
cloisters  of  a  seraglio,  and  even  for  servitude.  (30) 
Marriage  in  Europe  and  the  East  is  not  the  same  sort 
of  contract:  if  we  were  to  subject  it  every  where  to 
the  same  laws,  we  should  undoubtedly  produce  un- 
happiness  to  all  the  parties  interested. 

The  same  punishment  for  the  same  offence.  This 
adage  wears  an  appearance  of  justice  and  impartiality 
which  has  seduced  a  multitude  of  superficial  minds. 
To  give  it  any  reasonable  meaning,  we  should  deter- 
mine beforehand  what  is  understood  by  the  same  pun- 
ishments and  the  same  offences.  An  inflexible  law, 
a  law  which  would  pay  no  regard  either  to  sex  or 
age,  to  fortune  or  rank,  or  education,  or  to  the  moral 
or  religious  prejudices  of  individuals,  would  be  doubly 
vicious,  either  as  inefficient  or  as  tyrannical.  Too 
severe  for  one  ;  too  indulgent  for  another ;  always 
erring  by  excess  or  deficiency — under  an  appearance 
of  equality,  it  would  conceal  the  most  enormous  ine- 
quality. 

When  a  man  of  large  fortune  and  another  of  a 
middling  fortune,  are  condemned  to  the  same  penal- 
ty, is  the  punishment  the  same  ?  Do  they  suffer  the 

(30)  Doubts  are  beginning  to  be  entertained  about  the  treatment  of  Eastern 
wives.  They  are  now  believed  to  be  treated  with  extraordinary  kindness  and 
respect.  N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  255 

same  evil  ?  Is  not  the  manifest  inequality  of  their 
treatment  rendered  more  hateful  by  the  pretended 
equality  ?  and  does  not  the  law  miss  its  aim,  since 
one  may  forfeit  the  very  means  of  existence  while  the 
other  would  escape  in  triumph?  Let  a  young  robust 
man  and  a  decrepit  old  man  be  condemned  to  drag  a 
weight  of  chains  for  a  certain  number  of  years,  a 
reasoner  who  is  accustomed  to  rendering  the  most 
evident  truths  obscure,  might  contend  for  the  equality 
of  the  punishment,  but  the  people  who  are  not  so- 
phists, and  who  are  faithful  to  nature  and  to  feeling, 
would  experience  an  inward  murmur  of  the  soul  at 
sight  of  the  injustice;  and  their  indignation,  shifting 
its  object,  would  pass  from  the  criminal  to  the  judge 
and  from  the  judge  to  the  legislator. 

I  would  not  overlook  certain  specious  objections. 
How  is  it  possible  to  make  out  an  account  of  all  the 
circumstances  which  affect  the  sensibility  ?  How 
are  we  to  appreciate  the  inward  and  hidden  disposi- 
tion, such  as  strength  of  mind,  the  degree  of  intelli- 
gence, the  inclinations  and  the  sympathies  ?  How 
are  we  to  measure  qualities  which  are  so  different  in 
different  beings  ?  A  father  of  a  family  may  consult 
the  inward  disposition,  the  diversity  of  character,  in 
the  treatment  of  his  children  ;  but  a  public  precep- 
tor, charged  with  a  limited  number  of  disciples,  can- 
not. The  legislator  who  has  a  numerous  people  in 
view,  is  for  a  stronger  reason  obliged  to  confine  him- 
self to  general  laws,  and  may  fear  to  render  them  too 
complicated  by  descending  to  particular  cases.  If  he 
leaves  to  the  judges  the  right  of  varying  the  applica- 
tion of  the  laws  according  to  the  infinite  variety  of 
circumstances  and  characters,  there  would  be  no 
check  upon  arbitrary  judgments :  under  pretext  of 
seizing  the  true  intention  of  the  legislator,  the  judges 
would  make  the  law  the  instrument  of  gratification 
to  their  caprice  or  evil  temper.  '  Sed  aliter  leges,  aliter 
philosophi  toHunt  astutias ;  leges  quatenus  munu  tenere 


256  DUMONT'S   BENTIIAM. 

possunt ;   philosophi   quatenus  ralione   et  intelligentia. 
De  off.  3  17." 

It  is  not  enough  to  answer — we  must  try  to  clear 
up  the  point :  for  all  this  contains,  not  so  much  an 
objection  as  a  difficulty.  It  is  not  the  principle  that 
is  denied,  it  is  the  application  which  is  thought  impos- 
sible. 

1.  I  grant  that  most  of  these  differences  in  sensi- 
bility are  incapable  of  being  estimated,  that  it  would 
be  impossible  to  verify  their  existence  in  individu- 
al cases,  or  to  measure  their  strength  or  degree ;  but 
happily  these  interior  and  concealed  dispositions  have, 
as   it  were,  outward  and   visible  signs.     These  are 
the  circumstances  which  I  have  called  secondary  :  sex, 
age,   rank,  race,   climate,   government,    education,  reli- 
gious profession ;  evident  and  palpable  circumstances, 
which  indicate  the  interior  disposition.     Here  then, 
the  most  difficult  part  of  the  legislator's  duty  is  over. 
He  does  not  inquire  into  metaphysical  or  moral  quali- 
ties; he  attends  only  to  ostensible  (and  tangible)  pro- 
perties.    He  orders,  for  example,  the  modification  of 
a  pain  not  because  of  the   greater  sensibility  of  the 
individual,  or  because  of  his  perseverance,  or  strength 
of  soul   or  intelligence,  but  on  account  of  the  sex  or 
the  age.     It  is  true  that  presumptions  drawn  from 
these  cirumstances  are   subject  to  error.     It  may  be 
that  a  child  of  fifteen  is  more  enlightened  than  a  man 
of  thirty ;    it  may  be   that  a  particular  woman  has 
more  courage  or  less  modesty  than  a  particular  man  : 
But  these  presumptions  will   be  just  enough,  in  ge- 
neral, to  prevent  the  making  of  tyrannical  laws,  and 
above  all,  to  conciliate  the  suffrages  of  public  opinion. 
2.    These   secondary   circumstances  are  not  only 
easy  to  seize  ;    they  are   a  small  number  and  they 
form   general    classes.      We   may  draw    from    them 
grounds  of  justification,  of  extenuation,  or  of  aggra- 
vation, for  different  offences.    Thus  the  complication 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  257 

disappears,  and  every  thing  is  easily  brought  back  to 
the  principle  of  simplicity. 

3.  There  is  nothing  arbitrary;  it  is  not  the  judge; 
it  is  the  law  itself  which  modifies  such  or  such  a  pun- 
ishment according  to  the  sex,  the  age,  the  religious 
profession  of  the  offender,  &c.  Other  circumstances 
are  necessarily  left  to  the  examination  of  the  judge, 
as  the  more  or  less  derangement  of  mind,  the  more  or 
less  of  strength,  the  more  or  less  of  fortune,  the  more 
or  less  of  a  particular  parentage  ;  the  legislator  who 
can  say  nothing  to  individual  cases,  directs  the  courts 
by  general  rules,  and  leaves  them  a  certain  latitude, 
that  they  may  adapt  their  judgment  to  the  particular 
nature  of  the  circumstances. 

What  is  recommended  here  is  not  an  Utopian  idea. 
There  never  was  a  legislator  barbarous  enough  or  stu- 
pid enough  to  neglect  all  the  circumstances  which  af- 
fect sensibility.  They  have  all  had  an  idea  more  or 
less  confused  which  has  guided  them  in  the  esta- 
blishment of  civil  and  political  rights ;  they  have 
shown  more  or  less  regard  to  these  circumstances  in 
the  institution  of  punishments  ;  hence  the  difference 
admitted  for  women,  children,  freemen,  slaves,  the 
military,  churchmen,  &c. 

Draco  appears  to  be  the  only  one  who  has  rejected 
all  these  considerations,  at  least  in  penal  matters  : 
all  crimes  were  alike  in  his  viewr,  since  all  were  vio- 
lations of  the  law.  He  condemned  delinquents  to 
death  without  distinction.  He  confounded,  he  over- 
threw all  the  principles  of  human  sensibility.  His 
horrible  work  did  not  last  long.  I  doubt  whether  the 
lawrs  that  he  made  were  ever  administered  strictly. 

Without  falling  into  that  extreme,  how  many  faults 
of  the  same  sort  have  been  made !  I  should  never 
finish,  if  I  were  to  cite  examples.  Would  it  be  be- 
lieved that  there  have  been  sovereigns,  who  have 
preferred  losing  provinces,  and  pouring  out  rivers  of 
blood,  to  humorins:  a  particular  sensibility  in  a  peo- 
33 


258  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

pie,  or  to  respect  an  old  prejudice,  or  a  particular  garb, 
or  a  certain  form  of  prayer  ? 

A  prince  of  our  day,  active,  enlightened,  animated 
by  the  desire  of  glory,  and  the  happiness  of  his  peo- 
ple, undertook  to  reform  every  thing  in  the  state,  and 
raised  every  body  against  him.  At  the  approach  of 
death,  reviewing  all  the  disappointments  of  his  life, 
he  desired  to  have  it  engraved  upon  his  tomb  that  he 
had  been  unfortunate  in  every  thing  he  undertook. 
It  would  have  been  well  to  add,  for  the  instruction  of 
posterity,  that  he  had  never  known  how  to  humor 
the  partialities,  the  inclinations,  the  sensibility  of 
men.  (31) 

When  the  legislator  studies  the  human  heart ; 
when  he  attends  to  the  different  degrees  and  to  the 
different  kinds  of  sensibility,  by  making  exceptions,  or 
limitations,  or  meliorations,  this  tempering  of  power 
gratifies  us  as  a  sort  of  paternal  condescension.  It  is 
the  ground-work  of  that  approbation  which  we  give 
to  the  law  under  the  rather  vague  names  of  human- 
ity, equity,  propriety,  moderation  and  wisdom. 

I  find  here  a  striking  analogy  between  the  art  of 
the  legislator  and  that  of  the  physician.  This  cata- 
logue of  circumstances  which  influence  sensibility  is 
alike  necessary  to  both  sciences.  What  distinguishes 
the  physician  from  the  quack  is  that  attention  to 
every  thing  which  constitutes  the  particular  state  of 
the  individual.  But  it  is  above  all,  in  the  maladies 
of  the  mind,  in  those  where  the  morals  are  affected, 
where  he  labors  to  overcome  hurtful  habits  and  to 
form  new  ones,  that  it  is  necessary  to  study  every 
thing  that  may  influence  the  disposition  of  the  pa- 
tient. A  single  error  here  may  change  all  the  results 
and  aggravate  the  evil  by  the  very  remedies. 

(31)  Joseph  IO 

It  has  Been  well  said  of  Peter  the  Great,  that  he  hazarded  more,  when  he 
ordered  the  Russians  to  shave,  than  by  every  thing  else  he  did  in  the  character 
of  an  arbitrary  reformer.  IV. 


PRINCIPLES   OF    LEGISLATION,  259 


CH  A  PT  ER     X. 

ANALYSIS       OF       POLITICAL       GOOD       AND       KVI  L. H  O  W 

THEY       ARK       SPREAD       IN       SOCIETY. 

IT  is  with  government,  as  with  medicine.  They 
have  both  but  a  choice  of  evils.  Every  law  is  an  evil, 
for  every  law  is  an  infraction  of  liberty  :  (32)  And  I 
repeat  that  government  has  but  a  choice  of  evils  :  In 
making  this  choice,  what  ought  to  be  the  object  of 
the  legislator  ?  He  ought  to  assure  himself  of  two 
things  ;  1st,  that  in  every  case,  the  incidents  which 
he  tries  to  prevent  are  really  evils ;  and  2ndly,  that  if 
evils,  they  are  greater  than  those  which  he  employs 
to  prevent  them. 

There  are  then  two  things  to  be  regarded  ;  the 
evil  of  the  offence  and  the  evil  of  the  law  ;  the  evil 
of  the  malady  and  the  evil  of  the  remedy. 

An  evil  comes  rarely  alone.  (33)  A  lot  of  evil  can- 
not well  fall  upon  an  individual  without  spreading  it- 
self about  him,  as  about  a  common  centre.  In  the 
course  of  its  progress  we  see  it  take  different  shapes: 
we  see  evil  of  one  kind  issue  from  evil  of  another 
kind  ;  evil  proceed  from  good  and  good  from  evil. 
All  these  changes,  it  is  important  to  know  and  to  dis- 
tinguish ;  in  this,  in  fact,  consists  the  essence  of  le- 
gislation. But  happily  these  modifications  of  evil 

(32)  For  the  sake  of  what  may  appear  to  be  a  strange,  brilliant  paradox,  the 
author  has  here  said  what  is  not  strictly  true.     Law  is  not  an  evil,  where  it 
promotes  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number.     Law  is  not  an  evil 
where  it  abridges  the  liberty  of  doing  mischief.     It  were  but  a  narrow  view  of 
the  subject  indeed,  to  say  that  law  is  bad  because  it  abridges  liberty,  unless  you 
say  what  liberty. — By  abridging  the  liberty  of  those  who  seek  to  do  evil,  it 
augments  the  liberty  of  those  who  do  not,  and  the  last  are  the  majority,  if  you 
reckon  the  cases  instead  of  the  persons.    N. 

(33)  Misfortune  seldom  cornes  alone,  says  the  proverb.     And  the  proverb 
is  here  shown  to  be  philosophically  true.    N. 


260  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

are  not  numerous,  and  the  differences  are  strongly 
marked.  Three  principal  distinctions,  with  two  sub- 
divisions, are  enough  to  enable  us  to  resolve  the  most 
difficult  problems. 

Evil  of  the  first  order. 

Evil  of  the  second  order. 

Evil  of  the  third  order. 

Primitive  evil. — Derivative  evil. 

Immediate  evil. — Consequent  evil. 

Extensive  evil. — Divisible  evil. 

Permanent  evil. —  Transient  evil.  (34) 

These  are  the  only  new  terms  that  we  need  for  ex- 
pressing all  the  variety  of  forms  that  evil  may  take. 

Evil  resulting  from  a  bad  action,  may  be  divided 
into  two  principal  kinds  :  1,  that  which  falls  imme- 
diately upon  such  or  such  assignable  individuals,  may 
be  called  evil  of  the  first  order:  2,  that  which  takes 
its  origin  in  the  first,  and  spreads  itself  over  the  en- 
tire community,  or  among  an  indefinite  number  of 
non-assignable  individuals,  we  may  call  evil  of  the  se- 
cond order. 

Evil  of  the  first  order  may  be  divided  into  two 
branches:  1,  the  primitive  evil,  which  is  peculiar  to 
the  individual  injured,  or  first  sufferer,  to  him  for  ex- 
ample, who  is  beaten  or  robbed  ;  2.  Derivative  evil — 
that  portion  of  evil  which  falls  upon  assignable  indi- 
viduals, in  consequence  of  the  evil  suffered  by  the 
first,  because  of  some  connexion  between  the  two, 
whether  from  personal  interest  or  sympathy. 

Evil  of  the  second  order  may  also  be  divided  into 
two  branches:  1,  JilQrm.  2,  Danger.  Alarm  is  a  posi- 
tive pain,  the  pain  of  apprehension,  apprehension  of 
suffering  the  same  evil  which  has  just  occurred  to  an- 
other. Danger  is  the  chance  that  the  primitive  evil 
may  produce  other  evils  of  the  same  sort. 

The  two  branches  of  evil  of  the  second  order  are 

(34)  Observe  the  simplicity  and  comprehensiveness  of  thii  arrangement.    N, 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  2G1 

closely  allied,  but  so  unlike,  nevertheless,  that  they 
may  exist  separately.  Alarm  may  exist  without  dan- 
ger ;  danger  may  exist  without  alarm.  We  may  be 
frightened  by  a  conspiracy  purely  imaginary;  we  may 
feel  secure  in  the  midst  of  a  plot  which  is  ready  to 
explode  ;  but  ordinarily,  alarm  and  danger  go  toge- 
ther as  natural  effects  of  the  same  cause.  Evil  that 
happens  prepares  the  mind  to  expect  more  evils  ol 
the  same  sort,  by  rendering  them  probable.  Evil  that 
happens  gives  birth  to  danger :  the  idea  of  danger 
gives  birth  to  alarm.  A  bad  action  leads  to  danger 
by  example  :  it  prepares  the  way  for  another  bad 
action,  I,  in  suggesting  the  idea  of  perpetrating  it, 
(35)  2,  in  augmenting  the  force  of  temptation. 

Follow  what  may  be  supposed  to  pass  through  the 
mind  of  such  or  such  an  individual  when  he  hears  of 
successful  robbery.  He  is  unacquainted  with  this 
mode  of  subsistence,  or  he  does  not  think  of  it :  the 
example  acts  as  a  lesson  and  makes  him  conceive  the 
first  idea  of  recurring  to  the  same  expedient.  He 
sees  that  the  thing  is  possible,  provided  one  manages 
well  :  executed  by  another,  it  will  appear  to  him  less 
difficult  and  less  dangerous.  It  is  a  track  which 
guides  him  in  a  path,  he  would  not  have  dared  to  be 
the  first  to  take.  The  example  has  another  effect 
not  less  remarkable  upon  his  mind  ;  it  is  that  of 
weakening  the  motives,  which  withhold  him  :  the 
fear  of  the  law  loses  a  part  of  it  force,  so  long  as 
the  guilty  continue  unpunished  ;  the  fear  of  shame 
diminishes  in  the  same  way,  since  he  finds  himself 
surrounded  by  accomplices  who  offer  as  it  were  en- 

(35)  Nothing  can  be  truer  than  this.  For  months  together  in  England,  yon 
may  see  new  convictions  for  the  same  offence — an  offence  never  heard  of  in 
this  country — detailed,  in  the  same  paper,  from  two  to  six  times  a  week.  In 
the  Morning  Herald  for  1824-5  and  6, 1  have  met  with  from  forty  to  fifty  cases 
of  assault  on  children  of  six,  seven  and  eight,  by  middle-aged  and  robust  men, 
or  men  advanced  in  years. — And  here  in  this  country,  we  have  had  cases  in 
proof.  The  United  States  mail  was  robbed  again  and  again  a  few  years  ago  at 
the  south,  in  spite  of  the  fatal  consequences  to  all  concerned.  And  so  with 
suicide,  piracy  and  theft.  N. 


2G2  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

couraging  association  against  the  tinhappiness  of  con- 
tempt. This  is  so  true  that  wherever  robberies  are 
frequent  and  unpunished,  they  cause  no  more  shame 
than  any  other  mode  of  acquisition.  (36)  The  first 
Greeks  had  no  scruple  on  this  head.  The  Arabs  of 
our  day  glory  in  it.  (37) 

To  apply  this  theory.  You  have  been  beaten, 
wounded,  insulted,  robbed.  The  mass  of  your  per- 
sonal suffering,  considered  in  yourself  alone,  forms 
the  primitive  evil.  But  you  have  friends  ;  sympathy 
causes  them  to  participate  in  your  pains.  You  have 
a  wife,  children,  parents  ;  a  part  of  the  shame  with 
which  the  affront  has  covered  you,  lights  upon  them. 
You  have  creditors ;  the  loss  you  have  sustained 
obliges  you  to  make  them  wait.  All  these  people 
suffer  more  or  less  from  an  evil  derived  from  yours ; 
and  these  two  lots  of  evil,  yours  and  theirs,  taken  to- 
gether, compose  the  evil  of  the  first  order. 

(36)  Another  example  may  be  found  of  the  truth  of  all  this  in  the  fact,  that 
for  jears  no  failure  will  occur  in  particular  neighbourhoods.     Men  get  ashamed 
and  afraid  to  fail.     At  last  however,  some  one,  who  has  battled  hard  with  ad- 
versity and  suffering,  stops — another  follows  and  another, — because  they  can- 
not help  it.     Now  is  the  time  for  the  knave.     He  is  not  obliged  to  fail  ;  but 
having  honest  men  to  keep  him  in  countenance — and  being  withheld  by  neither 
fear  nor  shame  now — and  hoping  to  drive  a  good  bargain  with  his  creditors,  he 
takes  advantage  of  the  time,  and  shuts  up  shop.     Hence  whole  communities 
go,  when  there  would  appear  to  be  no  reason  for  it ;  and  hence  at  the  South — 
in  Baltimore  for  example — there  are  men  who  make  a  business  of  failing  ; 
men  who  follow  it  as  a  trade.    N. 

(37)  Wreckers  follow  robbery  as  a  trade  ;  thieves  who  associate  together 
glory   in  their   achievements.       And   there   is   a  strange,    every-day   morality 
about,  which  would  be  inexplicable  but  for  this  principle  of  imitation.     Are  we 
not  surrounded  by  men  who,  while  they  borrow,  and   keep,  or  take  or  steal 
books,  papers,  gloves,  canes,  umbrellas,  penknives,  &c.  would  never  borrow 
and  keep — nor  take — nor  steal  any  thing  else  of  the  same  value  ?   Do  we  not 
find  men  cheating  in  trade,  or  keeping  what  they  have  unjustly  acquired,  by 
mistake,  or  by  finding,  who  would   never  steal  money  raw  7    How  numerous 
are  they  that  cheat  with  cards — or  in  measure,  quality,  &c. — or  lie  profession- 
ally ;  and  who,  at  the  same  time,  are  altogether  too  honest  to  cheat  in  change, 
or  to  pass  counterfeit  money, — or  to  lie  out  of  the  usual  course  of  business. 
A.  is  quite  amazed  at  the  villainy  of  B.,  who  gives  another  short  measure  ;  yet 
A.,  if  he  finds  a  mistake  in  his  own  favour,  is  in  no  hurry  to  amend  it.     And 
B.,  while  he  expresses  a  becoming  horror  at  the  behaviour  of  A.,  with  regard 
to  the  mistake,  will  borrow  his  neighbour's  penknife,  or  book,  or  umbrella, 
and  nerer  think  of  returning  it  :  or  peradventure,  if  he  picks  up  money  in  the 
highway,  will  never  give  himself  much  trouble  to  find  the  owner.     Such  is  the 
morality  of  custom.    N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION,  2 68 

This  is  not  all.  The  news  of  the  robbery  with 
all  the  circumstances  (exaggerated)  is  repeated  from 
mouth  to  mouth.  The  idea  of  danger  starts  up,  and 
consequently  alarm.  That  alarm  is  greater  or  less, 
according  to  what  is  told  of  the  character  of  the  rob- 
bers, of  their  cruelty,  of  their  number,  and  of  their 
means  ;  according  as  we  are  nigh  to  or  afar  from  the 
place  of  the  event ;  as  we  have  more  or  less  courage 
and  strength  ;  as  we  travel  alone  or  with  a  wife  ;  as 
we  carry  with  us  more  or  less  of  valuables,  etc.  The 
danger  and  the  alarm  here  constitute  the  evil  of  the 
second  order. 

If  the  evil  which  has  been  done  you  is  of  a  nature 
to  be  propagated :  for  example,  if  somebody  has  de- 
famed you  by  an  imputation  which  includes  a  class 
more  or  less  numerous  of  individuals,  it  is  no  longer  a 
private  evil  simply,  but  an  extensive  evil.  It  is  aug- 
mented in  proportion  to  the  number  of  those  who 
participate  in  it. 

If  the  sum  which  one  has  robbed  you  of,  belonged 
not  to  you,  but  to  a  society,  or  to  the  state,  the  loss 
would  be  a  repartible  or  divisible  evil.  Contrary  to 
the  preceding  case,  the  evil  here  would  be  diminish- 
ed in  proportion  to  the  number  of  those  who  partici- 
pated in  it. 

If  in  consequence  of  a  wound  that  you  have  re- 
ceived, you  suffer  some  evil,  altogether  distinct  from 
the  first,  as  the  loss  of  a  lucrative  business,  or  of  mar- 
riage, or  of  an  advantageous  post,  this  would  be  a 
consequent  evil. 

Permanent  evil  is  that  which,  once  done,  cannot  be 
changed  :  for  example,  an  irreparable  personal  injury, 
amputation,  death,  &c.  Transient  or  evanescent  evil 
is  that  which  is  capable  of  ceasing  all  at  once,  as  a 
malady  which  is  cured,  or  a  loss  which  may  be  com- 
pletely compensated. 

These  distinctions,  although  in  part  new,  are  any 
thing  but  useless  subtleties.  It  is  only  by  their  means 


264  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

that  we  are  able  to  appreciate  the  difference  of  malig- 
nity between  different  crimes,  and  to  regulate  the  pro- 
portion of  punishment. 

This  analysis  will  furnish  us  with  a  moral  criteri- 
on, or  a  means  of  decomposing  human  actions  ;  as  we 
decompose  metals  to  know  their  intrinsic  value  and 
the  precise  quantity  of  alloy. 

If  among  had  actions — or  actions  reputed  to  be  so, 
there  are  any  which  produce  no  alarm,  what  a  differ- 
ence between  such  actions  and  those  which  do  pro- 
duce it !  The  subject  of  the  primitive  evil  is  but  one 
individual :  the  derivative  evil  can  extend  itself  but 
to  a  small  number.  But  the  evil  of  the  second  order 
may  embrace  the  whole  body  of  society.  Let  a  fa- 
natic for  example,  commit  an  assassination  for  heresy, 
the  evil  of  the  second  order,  the  alarm  above  all,  may 
be  a  thousand  times  greater  than  the  evil  of  the  first 
order. 

There  is  a  large  class  of  offences,  of  which  all 
the  evil  consists  in  the  danger.  I  speak  of  those 
actions  which,  without  wounding  any  assignable  in- 
dividual are  hurtful  to  society.  Let  us  take  for  ex- 
ample, an  offence  against  justice.  The  bad  con- 
duct of  a  judge,  of  an  accuser,  or  of  a  witness, 
leads  to  the  escape  of  a  guilty  person.  Here  is  an 
evil  without  doubt,  for  here  is  a  danger  ;  the  danger 
of  emboldening  by  impunity  the  delinquent  himself 
to  repeat  his  crime  ;  the  danger  of  encouraging  other 
delinquents  by  the  example  and  the  success  of  the  first. 
However,  it  is  probable  that  this  danger,  great  as  it  is, 
will  have  escaped  the  attention  of  the  public  ;  and 
that  those  who  from  a  habit  of  reflection  are  capable 
of  estimating  the  consequences,  (38)  will  not  feel  any 

(38)  I  am  doubtful  of  the  meaning  here;  and  if  the  translation  is  proper,  I 
should  be  inclined  to  object  to  the  reasoning.  '  II  est  probable1  says  the  au- 
thor— '  que  ceux  qui,  par  1'habitude  de  la  reflexion,  sont  capables  de  le  deme- 
ler,  n'en  concevront  point  d'alarme.  Us  ne  craignent  pns  de  le  voir  se  realiser 
sur  personne.'  In  particular  should  be  added,  or  something  else;  for  they  who 
were  capable  of  reflecting,  would  see  the  evil,  and  seeing  it,  they  would  fear 
it.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  265 

alarm.     They  do  not  fear  to  see  it  realized  upon  any 
body. 

But  the  importance  of  these  distinctions  cannot  be 
felt  except  in  their  developement.  We  shall  hereafter 
attempt  a  particular  application. 

If  we  carry  our  search  a  little  further,  we  shall 
perceive  another  evil  which  may  result  from  a  crime. 
When  alarm  arrives  at  a  certain  point — when  it  lasts 
a  long  time — its  effect  is  not  confined  to  the  passive 
faculties  of  man ;  it  spreads  even  to  his  active  facul- 
ties, it  extinguishes  them,  it  throws  them  into  a  state 
of  abasement  and  torpor.  Hence  when  depredations 
or  vexations  have  become  habitual,  the  discouraged 
labourer  works  but  just  enough  to  escape  starvation : 
The  only  refuge  for  him  is  idleness.  Industry  sinks 
with  hope,  and  briars  overspread  the  most  fertile 
lands.  This  branch  of  the  evil  may  be  called  evil  of 
the  third  order. 

Whether  the  evil  be  produced  by  the  act  of  man, 
or  by  a  purely  physical  event,  all  these  distinctions 
are  equally  applicable. 

Happily,  it  is  not  to  evil  alone  that  belongs  the 
power  of  propagating  and  spreading  itself.  Good 
has  the  same  prerogative.  Follow  analogy,  and 
you  will  see  proceeding  from  a  good  action  a  good 
of  the  first  order,  divisible  also  into  primitive  and  de- 
rivative; and  a  good  of  the  second  order  which  pro- 
duces a  certain  degree  of  confidence  and  security. 

The  good  of  the  third  order  shows  itself  in  that 
energy,  that  gayety  of  heart,  that  ardor  of  action, 
which  are  excited  by  remuneratory  motives.  Ani- 
mated by  this  joyous  temper,  a  man  discovers  in 
himself  a  strength  which  he  had  never  suspected. 

The  propagation  of  good  is  less  rapid  and  less 
obvious  than  that  of  evil.  A  grain  of  good  is  less 
productive  in  hope  than  a  grain  of  evil  in  alarm. 
But  that  difference  is  abundantly  compensated ;  for 
good  is  the  necessary  result  of  natural  causes  which 

34 


266  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

operate  continually,  while  evil  is  produced  but  by  ac- 
cident and  at  intervals.  (39) 

Society  is  so  constituted  that  in  labouring  for  our 
own  happiness,  we  labour  for  the  general  happiness. 
We  cannot  increase  our  own  means  of  enjoyment 

(39)  What  a  grand  view  of  the  grandest  object  within  the  reach  of  our  un- 
derstanding! What  we  call  evil  is  but  in  fact,  a  temporary  interruption  of  good 
— a  sort  of  exception  to  that,  with  which  we  are  so  familiar,  as  to  consider  it 
the  natural  course  of  things.  Paley  might  have  done  much  better  with  this 
part  of  his  great  work,  if  he  had  gone  more  into  detail.  Who  would  be  with- 
out vision,  or  appetite,  or  sensibility  ?  They  have  their  peculiar  pains  to  be 
sure;  but  when  we  are  in  health,  who  would  forego  the  pleasure  to  escape  the 
pain  ?  So  with  every  thing  else.  And  yet  there  are  those,  who  cannot  or  will 
not  perceive,  that  even  here,  on  this  earth,  we  have  more  to  enjoy  than  to  suf- 
fer. Should  their  vision  be  checked  for  a  day,  by  disease  or  accident,  how  do 
they  pass  that  day  ?  In  considering  with  gratitude  the  nature  and  vastness  of 
what  they  had  always  before  enjoyed  ?  In  calling  up  anew  the  delightful  sen- 
sations they  have  had  from  their  youth  up,  from  the  perpetual  ministering  of 
that  sense,  which  would  be  r^ore  inconceivable  perhaps  than  any  other,  if  we 
were  born  without  eyes  ?  Nt>  indeed — but  in  dwelling  upon  the  deprivation, 
the  suffering  at  the  time,  and  the  darkness  of  the  future,  with  unthankful 
hearts.  They  count  their  loss  only,  without  reckoning  their  gain.  They  re- 
proach God  for  withdrawing  a  miraculous  power;  but  they  never  thank  him  for 
the  use  of  it.  And  so  too,  if  'hey  suffer  bodily  pain — it  is  but  for  a  few 
hours  in  a  long  life;  and  yet  they  are  so  impatient  and  so  unreasonable  as 
to  overlook  and  forget  forever  all  their  bodily  pleasures.  So  with  our 
appetites — a  certain  degree  of  hunger  if  satisfied,  we  call  pleasure:  if  unsatis- 
fied, pain.  Yet  if  we  happen  to  be  hungry  a  little  too  much,  or  a  little  too 
long — so  hUngry  for  a  single  day  in  the  course  of  a  life,  as  to  suffer,  we  are 
perpetually  recurring  to  it,  and  complaining  of  it,  as  a  tyrannical  abridg- 
ment of  our  right  to  be  just  as  hungry  as  may  be  most  agreeable  to  ourselves: 
Or  if  we  happen  to  have  no  appetite  for  awhile,  then  our  remonstrances  take 
another  shape.  We  would  rather  be  hungry,  please  God;  arid  if  we  are  not 
hungry,  whose  fault  is  it  ?  Not  ours,  most  assuredly;  we  try  hard  enough,  and 
pray  hard  enough,  and  with  a  spirit  as  discontented  as  need  be.  Who  would 
like,  though  he  were  assured  of  uninterrupted  health,  to  go  through  life,  with- 
out ever  feeling  drowsiness,  or  hunger,  or  thirst  ?  And  yet,  what  are  drowsi- 
ness, hunger  and  thirst,  but  so  many  pains,  the  alleviation  of  which  is  plea- 
sure? 

So  with  all  the  enjoyments  of  life.  We  are  surrounded  with  enjoyment. 
To  live  is  to  enjoy.  To  eat,  or  drink,  or  sleep,  is  to  enjoy,  and  every  body 
would  acknowledge  it,  if  he  had  not  been  made  insensible  of  the  truth  by  too 
long,  or  too  uninterrupted  indulgence.  To  breathe  is  to  enjoy — it  has  grown  into 
a  proverb — the  poets  call  it  luxury.  So  with  sky  and  air  and  earth  and  sea: 
But  do  we  reckon  these  enjoyments  "in  our  thankfulness  ?  No  indeed — never. 
It  is  enough  for  us  to  complain  of  their  cessation  or  interruption,  though  it  be 
only  for  a  cloudy  afternoon  or  a  head-ache.  Hence  the  necessity  of  our  suf- 
fering here — nothing  else  ever  did,  or  ever  could  make  us  either  grateful  for 
what  we  enjoy;  or  even  sensible  of  what  we  enjoy.  How  blessed  is  the  light 
of  day,  or  the  breath  of  the  fresh  wind  to  the  prisoner,  or  the  sick?  Yet 
neither  would  care  for  light  or  wind,  if  he  were  to  enjoy  it  forever.  Suffering 
makes  us  grateful:  humanizes  the  heart:  leads  to  sympathy,  to  fortitude,  to  af- 
fection, to  love,  to  virtue — to  all  that  makes  life  desirable.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION. 

without  augmenting  those  of  others.  Two  states, 
like  two  individuals,  are  enriched  by  mutual  com- 
merce, and  all  exchange  is  founded  upon  reciprocal 
advantages.  (40) 

Happily  too,  the  effects  of  evil  are  not  always  evil. 
They  frequently  assume  a  different  shape.  Thus  ju- 
dicial punishments  applied  to  offences,  although  they 
produce  an  evil  of  the  first  order,  cease  to  be  regard- 
ed in  society  as  an  evil,  since  they  produce  a  good  of 
the  second  order.  They  lead  to  alarm  and  danger, 
but  for  whom  ?  For  a  class  of  malefactors  who  ex- 
pose themselves  to  both;  if  they  were  quiet,  they 
would  never  be  troubled  with  alarm  or  danger. 

O 

We  never  should  be  able  to  subjugate,  even  par- 
tially, the  great  empire  of  evil,  if  we  had  not  learnt 
to  make  use  of  one  evil  in  combating  others.  It 
has  been  necessary  to  look  for  auxiliaries  among 
pains  to  oppose  other  pains  which  crowded  upon  us 
from  every  side.  It  is  thus,  that  in  the  art  of  curing 
one  class  of  maladies,  well-managed  poisons  have 
come  to  act  as  remedies. 

(40)  A  liberal  view,  and  one  that  was  eloquently  supported  by  Mr.  Bentham, 
in  a  pamphlet  published  in  1793,  and  addressed  to  the  French  people,  who 
had  just  made  him  a  French  citizen;  but  a  view  which  cannot  be  maintained, 
if  we  take  the  language  of  the  text  in  a  vulgar  sense.  A  nation,  like  an  indi- 
vidual might  be  enriched  by  driving  hard  bargains — by  selling  dear  and  buy- 
ing cheap;  in  other  words,  by  studying  her  own  interest  exclusively.  But 
if  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  were  considered  as  one  family;  and  if  the  great- 
est happiness  of  the  greatest  number  were  the  measure  of  wealth  (as  it  should 
be) ,  then  all  nations  would  be  enriched  by  driving  a  fair  and  equal  trade  with 
one  another, — by  interchanging  freely.  N. 


268  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM 


CHAPTER    XI. 

REASONS   FOR   DECLARING   CERTAIN   ACTS   TO   BE 
OFFENCES. 

WE  have  made  the  analysis  of  evil :  that  analysis 
proves  that  there  are  actions,  from  which  results  more 
evil  than  good  :  It  is  acts  of  this  nature,  or  at  least, 
those  which  have  been  so  reputed,  that  legislators 
have  prohibited.  A  prohibited  act  is  what  is  called 
an  offence.  To  make  these  prohibitions  respected, 
punishments  were  necessary. 

But  is  it  proper  to  constitute  certain  actions  of- 
fences? or  in  other  words,  is  it  proper  to  subject 
them  to  legal  punishment? 

What  a  question !  Are  not  all  men  agreed  upon  it  ? 
Are  we  to  try  to  prove  an  acknowledged  truth,  a  truth 
so  well  established  in  the  mind  of  man? 

All  men  are  agreed  upon  it.  Be  it  so.  But  on 
what  is  founded  that  agreement  ?  Demand  of  each 
his  reasons.  You  will  find  a  strange  diversity  of  in- 
terest and  principles :  You  will  find  it  not  only 
among  the  people,  but  among  philosophers.  Would 
it  be  time  lost  to  look  for  a  uniform  ground  of  assent 
in  a  matter  so  essential  ? 

The  agreement  which  we  see,  is  founded  only  on 
prejudices  ;  and  these  prejudices  vary  according  to 
times  and  places,  according  to  opinions  and  customs. 
People  have  always  said  that  such  an  action  is  an  of- 
fence, and  we  therefore  believe  it  to  be  an  offence. 
Such  is  the  guide  of  the  multitude,  and  even  of  the 
legislator.  But  if  usage  has  made  innocent  actions 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  269 

crimes;  if  it  makes  venial  offences  appear  heavy,  and 
heavy  offences  light ;  if  it  has  varied  every  where,  it 
is  clear  that  we  must  subject  it  to  some  rule, and  not  re- 
ceive it  for  a  rule.  Let  us  appeal  here  to  the  princi- 
ple of  utility.  It  will  confirm  the  decrees  of  the 
people  wherever  they  are  just ;  it  will  reverse  them 
wherever  they  are  pernicious. 

I  suppose  myself  a  stranger  to  all  the  denominations 
of  vice  and  virtue.  1  am  called  to  consider  human 
actions  only  by  their  good  or  evil  effects.  I  begin  with 
opening  two  accounts.  I  pass  to  the  account  of  pure 
profit  all  pleasures  ;  to  that  of  (41)  loss  all  the  pains. 
I  weigh  the  interests  of  all  parties  faithfully  ;  the 
man  who  is  branded  already  by  prejudice  for  a  cul- 
prit, and  he  who  has  been  adjudged  virtuous,  are  for 
the  moment  equal  before  me.  I  will  even  judge  the 
prejudged,  and  weigh  in  that  new  balance  every  ac- 
tion, for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  catalogue  of  such 
as  ought  to  be  permitted,  and  such  as  ought  to  be 
forbidden. 

That  operation  which  at  first  appeared  so  compli- 
cated, will  become  easy  by  aid  of  the  distinction  that 
we  have  made  between  evil  of  the  first  order,  of  the 
second,  and  of  the  third. 

Have  I  to  examine  an  outrageous  act  upon  the 
safety  of  an  individual  ?  I  compare  all  the  pleasure, 
in  other  words,  all  the  profit,  which  could  arise  from 
such  act  to  the  author,  with  all  the  evil  or  all  the  loss 
which  would  result  to  the  party  injured.  I  see  at 
once  that  the  evil  of  the  first  order  exceeds  the  good 
of  the  first  order.  But  I  do  not  stop  there.  The  ac- 
tion leads  to  danger  and  alarm  in  society.  The  evil 
which  at  first  was  confined  to  but  one,  spreads  every 
where  now,  in  the  shape  of  terror.  The  pleasure  re- 
sulting from  the  action  is  only  for  one ;  the  pain  is 
for  a  thousand,  for  ten  thousand,  for  all.  The  dis- 

(41)   Pure  loss?     N. 


270  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

proportion  already  prodigious,  appears  to  be  infinite, 
if  I  pass  to  the  evil  of  the  third  order,  in  considering, 
that  if  the  act  in  question  is  not  repressed,  there  will 
result  from  it  universal  and  durable  discouragement, 
a  cessation  of  labour,  and  finally  the  dissolution  of 
society. 

Let  us  now  review  the  strongest  desires,  those  of 
which  the  satisfaction  is  accompanied  with  the  great- 
est pleasure  ;  and  we  shall  see  that  their  accomplish- 
ment, when  they  succeed  at  the  expense  of  security, 
is  much  more  fruitful  in  evil  than  in  good.  (42) 

I.  We  will  begin  with  enmity.  It  is  the  most 
fruitful  cause  of  attempts  against  the  honour  and  the 
person.  I  have  conceived,  no  matter  why,  enmity 
against  you.  Passion  leads  me  astray  :  I  insult  you, 
I  humble  you,  I  wound  you.  The  sight  of  your  pain 
gives  me  at  the  time  an  emotion  of  pleasure.  But 
even  at  the  time,  is  it  to  be  believed  that  my  plea- 
sure is  equal  to  your  pain  ?  If  every  atom  of  your 
pain  could  be  represented  in  my  mind,  is  it  probable 
that  every  atom  of  pleasure  which  might  correspond 
with  it  there,  would  be  of  the  same  intensity  ?  And 
yet,  it  is  but  a  few  atoms  scattered  by  your  pain 
which  are  presented  to  my  distracted  and  troubled 
imagination  :  With  you,  nothing  is  lost ;  with  me,  the 
greatest  part  is  always  dissipated  and  thrown  away. 
But  this  pleasure,  such  as  it  is,  is  not  long  in  reveal- 
ing its  natural  impurity.  Humanity,  the  principle 
which  nothing  can  utterly  stifle  in  the  most  atrocious 
minds,  awakens  a  secret  remorse  in  mine.  Fears  of 
every  sort,  the  fear  of  vengeance,  either  on  your  part 
or  on  the  part  of  those  who  are  connected  with  you; 
fear  of  the  public  voice  ;  religious  fears,  if  there  re- 
mains in  me  a  spark  of  religion  ; — all  these  fears 
comejto  trouble  my  security,  and  soon  destroy  my 

(42)  Observe  what  a  beautiful  system  of  morals  we  have  here.  Follow  it 
out,  and  see  to  what  a  magnificent  issue  we  are  conducted.  At  some  future 
day,  I  hope  to  give  a  summary  view  of  Mr.  Bentham's  unpublished  system  of 
Deontology.  I  have  it  in  MS.,  as  I  took  it  down  from  his  own  lips.  N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION.  271 

triumph.  Passion  is  withered  ;  pleasure  is  no  more  ; 
self-reproach  follows.  But  with  you,  the  pain  still 
abides,  and  may  abide  yet  longer.  So  much  for  light 
wounds,  which  are  scarred  over  by  time.  But  how 
is  it  with  cases  where  from  the  very  nature  of  the  in- 
jury, the  sore  is  incurable  ;  as  where  a  member  has 
been  struck  off,  or  features  disfigured,  or  faculties  de- 
stroyed ?  Weigh  the  evils — their  intensity,  their  du- 
ration, their  consequences ;  measure  them  in  every 
way,  and  see  how  in  every  thing,  pleasure  is  inferior 
to  pain.  (43) 

Let  us  pass  to  the  effects  of  the  second  order. 
The  news  of  your  misfortune  spreads  far  and  wide 
the  poison  of  terror.  Every  man  who  has  an  enemy, 
or  who  may  have  an  enemy,  thinks  with  affright  of 
all  that  may  inspire  the  passion  of  hatred.  Among 
the  feeble  who  have  so  many  things  to  envy,  and  to 
dispute  about,  that  a  thousand  paltry  jealousies  are 
forever  throwing  them  together,  the  spirit  of  revenge 
prepares  a  series  of  interminable  evils.  (44) 

Thus  every  act  of  cruelty  produced  by  a  passion, 
the  principle  of  which  is  in  every  heart,  and  from 
which  every  body  may  suffer,  may  cause  an  alarm 
which  will  continue  until  the  punishment  of  the  of- 
fender has  removed  the  danger  from  the  side  of  in- 
justice. *  *  (45)  Here  is  a  suffering 
common  to  all ;  and  let  us  not  overlook  another  pain 

(43)  If  you  would  enjoy  the  whole  worth  of  this  profound,  clear,  and  satis- 
factory view  of  the  case,  forget  what  you  have  just  read,  and  ask  yourself  how 
you  would  have  proceeded  to  prove  that  the  pain  was  either  greater  or  less,  I 
care  not  which,  than  the  pleasure.     If  you  still  doubt,  propose  the  same  ques- 
tion to  another.     Select  the  clearest  head  you  know  :  hear  all  that  can  be 
said  on  the  subject,  and  then  go  back  to  our  author.     You  will  then  be  asto- 
nished, if  you  are  not  already.  N. 

(44)  Such  are,  in  fact,  the  fends  that  prevail  among  barbarous  or  semi-bar- 
barous tribes.     They  are  bequeathed,  from  generation  to  generation,  forever. 

N. 

(45)  The  meaning  of  this  I  have  not  been  able  to  make  out,  with  any  sort 
of  satisfaction  to  myself.    It  reads  thus  in  the  original, — " — fera  eprouver  une 
alarme  qui  continuera  jusqu'  d  ce  que  la  punition  du   coupable   ait 
transports,  le  danger  du  cotede  V injustice,  de  /'  inimitie  cruelle,'  perhaps 
there  may  be  an  omission  of  a  relative  before  de,  I'inimitie.  N. 


272  DUMONT'S    BENT1IAM. 

which  results  from  it,  that  pain  of  sympathy  which  is 
felt  by  all  generous  hearts  at  the  sight  of  such  crimes. 

II.  If  we  examine  now  those  acts  which  proceed 
from  that  imperious  desire  to  which  nature  has  trusted 
for  the  perpetuity  of  the  species,  and  for  so  large  a 
part  of  its  happiness,  we  shall  see  that  when  it  tres- 
passes upon  the  safety  of  the  person,  or  the  domes- 
tic condition,  the  good  which  results  from  its  gratifi- 
cation is  not  to  be  compared  with  the  evil  which 
flows  from  it. 

I  speak  here  only  of  the  attempt  which  manifestly 
endangers  the  safety  of  the  person — rape.     We  are 
not  by  a  gross  and  puerile  pleasantry  to  deny  the 
existence  of  the  crime,  nor  to  diminish  its   horror. 
.  Whatever  we  may  say,  even  those  women  who  are 
the  most  prodigal  of  their  favours,  would  not  have 
them   snatched  with  a    brutal  fury.     But  here  the 
greatness  of  the  alarm  renders  all  discussion  upon  the 
primitive  evil  useless.     Whatever  may  be  the  actual 
offence,  the  possible  offence  will  be  always  an  object 
of  horror.      The    more  common  that  desire    which 
gives  birth  to  the  crime,  the  greater  the  alarm.     At  a 
period  when  the  laws  were  not  powerful   enough  to 
repress  it,  nor  manners  strict  enough  to  hinder  it,  it 
led  to  scenes  of  vengeance,  the  traces  of  which  may 
be  found  in  every  chapter  of  history.     Whole  nations 
took  part  in  the  quarrel ;  hatred   was  passed  down 
from  father  to   son.     It  appears  that  the  severe  con- 
finement of  the  Greek  women,  which  was  unknown 
in  the  time  of  Homer,  owed  its  origin  to  a  period  of 
trouble  and  revolution,  when  the  feebleness  of  the 
law  had  multiplied  these  disorders  and  spread  a  ge- 
neral terror. 

III.  As  to  the  motive  of  cupidity :  In  comparing  the 
pleasure  of  acquiring  by  usurpation,  with  the  pain  of 
losing  by  it,  the  one  would  not  be  an  equivalent  for 
the  other.  But  there  are  cases,  in  which,  if  it  were 
necessary  to  stop  with  evils  of  the  first  order,  the 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  273 

good  would  possess  an  incontestable  preponderance 
over  the  evil.  In  considering;  the  offence  under  this 
point  of  view  alone,  we  could  not  assign  any  good 
reason  to  justify  the  rigour  of  the  law.  Every  thing 
turns  upon  the  evil  of  the  second  order  ;  that  is  the 
evil  which  gives  to  the  action  the  character  of  an  of- 
fence ;  that  is  the  evil  which  makes  punishment  neces- 
sary. Let  us  take,  for  exampje,  the  physical  desire, 
which  has  for  its  object  the  satisfying  of  hunger. 
Let  an  indigent  man,  pressed  by  want,  steal  bread 
from  the  house  of  a  rich  man,  bread  which  perhaps 
may  save  the  poor  man's  life.  Can  we  put  in  com- 
parison the  good  he  does  to  himself,  with  the  loss  that 
occurs  to  the  rich  man  ?  We  may  apply  the  same  ob- 
servation to  less  striking  cases.  Let  a  man  be  a  pub- 
lic defaulter.  He  enriches  himself,  and  he  impover- 
ishes nobody.  The  wrong  which  he  does  to  indivi- 
duals, is  reduced  to  impalpable  parts.  It  is  not  then 
because  of  the  evil  of  the  first  order,  that  it  is  neces- 
sary to  make  these  actions  crimes  ;  it  is  because  of 
the  evil  of  the  second  order. 

If  the  pleasure  attached  to  the  satisfying  of  desires, 
so  powerful  as  hatred,  lust,  and  hunger,  against  the 
will  of  others  interested,  is  so  far  from  equalizing  the 
evil  which  ensues — the  disproportion  will  appear 
much  greater  where  the  motives  are  less  active  and 
powerful. 

The  desire  of  self-preservation  is  the  only  one 
which  now  appears  to  demand  a  separate  enquiry. 

Suppose  it  regards  an  evil  which  the  law  itself  im- 
poses upon  an  individual ;  which  must  be  for  some 
very  pressing  reason,  such  as  the  necessity  of  causing 
the  ordinary  punishments  of  the  courts  to  be  execut- 
ed ;  punishments  without  which  there  would  be  no 
safety — no  government.  But  suffer  the  desire  of 
escaping  from  this  pain  to  be  satisfied,  and  the  law  finds 
itself  so  far  struck  with  imbecility.  The  evil  which 
esults  from  that  satisfaction  is  then  that  which  re- 
35 


274  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

suits  from  the  imbecility  of  the  laws,  or  what  amounts 
to  the  same  thing,  from  the  non-existence  of  law.  But 
the  evil  which  results  from  the  non-existence  of  law 
is  in  fact  the  assemblage  of  divers  evils,  which  the 
laws  are  established  to  prevent;  that  is  to  say,  of  all 
the  evils  that  men  are  subject  to  experience  on  the 
part  of  men.  A  single  triumph  obtained  by  the  in- 
dividual over  the  laws  in  that  way,  should  not  be 
enough  to  fasten  upon  them  the  character  of  ineffi- 
ciency. Nevertheless,  every  example  of  this  sort  is 
a  symptom  of  weakness  ;  and  one  step  towards  their 
destruction.  There  results  from  it  an  evil  of  the  se- 
cond order;  an  alarm  more  or  less  of  danger;  and  if 
the  laws  connive  at  all  at  such  evasion,  they  are  in 
array  against  themselves  ;  to  avoid  a  small  evil,  they 
would  run  in  the  way  of  a  greater. 

Remains  the  case  where  an  individual  repels  an 
evil,  to  which  the  laws  have  not  wished  to  expose 
him.  But  since  they  do  not  wish  him  to  submit  to 
this  evil,  they  wish  him  not  to  submit  to  it.  To 
avoid  such  evil  is  for  him  a  good.  It  is  possible  that 
in  his  efforts  to  preserve  himself,  he  may  cause  an  evil 
greater  than  would  be  equivalent  to  the  good.  The 
evil  that  he  produces  in  his  own  defence — shall  it  be 
bounded  to  what  is  necessary  for  that  purpose  ;  or 
shall  it  go  further  ?  What  relation  bears  the  evil 
which  he  has  done,  to  the  evil  that  he  has  prevented  ? 
It  is  equal,  or  greater,  or  less  ?  Was  the  evil  that  he 
has  escaped  capable  of  compensation,  if  instead  of 
defending  himself  by  such  a  costly  method,  he  had 
submitted  to  it  for  a  while.  (46)  These  are  so  many 
questions  of  fact,  which  the  law  ought  to  take  into 
consideration,  for  the  purpose  of  settling  certain  de- 
tails on  the  subject  of  self-defence.  It  is  a  subject 
which  belongs  to  the  penal  code,  in  examining  the 

(46)  Here  we  have  the  whole  doctrine  of  the  Friends,  their  Don-resist 
ance  and  all,  reduced  to  a  philosophical  measurement.    N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  275 

means  of  justification,  or  extenuation  with  regard  to 
offences.  It  is  enough  to  observe  here,  that  in  all 
these  cases,  whatever  may  be  the  evil  of  the  first 
order,  all  the  evil  that  an  individual  can  do  in  defence 
of  himself,  will  produce  no  alarm,  no  danger.  Unless 
he  is  attacked  and  his  safety  endangered,  other  men 
have  nothing  to  fear  from  him. 


276  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

O  F      TH  E      LIMITS      WHICH      SEPARATE      MOKALS       FROM 
LEGISLATION.   (47) 

MORALITY  in  general  is  the  act  of  directing  the 
actions  of  men,  so  as  to  produce  the  greatest  possible 
amount  of  happiness. 

Legislation  ought  to  have  precisely  the  same  object 
in  view. 

But  although  these  two  arts,  or  these  two  sciences 
have  the  same  end  in  view,  they  differ  much  in  their 
extent.  All  actions,  whether  public  or  private,  are 
the  springs  of  morals.  It  is  a  guide  which  may  con- 
duct an  individual,  as  it  were  by  the  hand,  through 
all  the  details  of  life,  through  all  the  relationships  of 
society.  Legislation  cannot  do  this,  and  if  it  could, 
it  ought  not  to  exercise  a  continual  and  direct  inter- 
ference with  the  conduct  of  men.  Morality  prescribes 
to  each  individual  to  do  whatever  is  advantageous  to 
himself  and  to  the  community.  But  as  there  are  ma- 
ny acts  useful  to  the  community  which  the  legislator 
ought  never  to  command:  So  are  there  many  hurtful 
acts,  which  he  ought  not  to  forbid,  although  morality 
may.  Legislation  in  a  word  has  much  the  same 
centre  as  morality,  though  not  the  same  circumfer- 
ence. 

There  are  two  reasons  for  the  difference:  1.  Le- 
gislation cannot  secretly  influence  the  conduct  of  men 

(47)  One  of  the  best  chapters  in  the  work.  It  deserves  to  be  circulated  in 
a  pamphlet,  far  and  wide,  through  our  country.  Our  legislators  are  continu- 
ally erring  (and  so  indeed  are  the  British)  on  the  subjects  of  legislation. 
They  attempt  too  much, — a  certain  way  of  doing  too  little.  N. 


PRINCIPLES    OF    LEGISLATION.  277 

but  by  punishment :  these  punishments  are  so  many 
evils,  which  are  no  further  justifiable,  than  as  they 
produce  a  greater  sum  of  good.  But  in  many  cases 
where  we  might  wish  to  strengthen  a  moral  precept 
by  a  penalty,  the  evil  of  the  fault  would  be  less  than 
the  evil  of  the  penalty;  the  means  necessary  for  se- 
curing the  execution  of  the  law  would  be  of  a  nature 
to  spread  a  degree  of  alarm  more  hurtful  than  the 
evil  that  we  might  wish  to  prevent. 

2.  Legislation  is  often  stopped  by  the  fear  of  in- 
cluding the  innocent  while  striving  to  reach  the  guil- 
ty. Whence  comes  the  danger?  From  the  difficul- 
ty of  denning  the  offence,  of  giving  a  clear  and  pre- 
cise idea  of  it.  For  example,  severity,  ingratitude, 
perfidy,  and  other  vices  which  the  popular  sanction 
punishes,  cannot  come  within  the  supervision  of  the 
law,  for  we  cannot  give  an  exact  definition  of  them, 
as  of  robbery,  homicide,  perjury,  etc. 

But  the  better  to  distinguish  the  true  limits  of 
morals  and  legislation,  let  us  look  here  at  the  most 
ordinary  classification  of  moral  duties. 

Private  morality  regulates  the  actions  of  man,  both 
in  that  part  of  his  conduct  which  concerns  himself 
alone,  and  in  that  which  may  concern  the  interest  of 
others.  What  interests  himself  composes  a  class  of 
actions  which  are  called  (improperly  perhaps)  duties 
toward  one's  self,  and  the  quality  manifested  by  the 
fulfilment  of  these  duties,  receives  the  name  of  pru- 
dence. That  part  of  his  conduct  which  concerns 
others,  forms  a  class  of  actions  which  are  called  duties 
toward  others.  But  there  are  two  methods  of  con- 
sulting the  happiness  of  others  ;  the  one  negative,  in 
abstaining  from  diminishing  it,  the  other  positive,  in 
labouring  to  augment  it ;  the  first  constitutes  probity, 
the  second  benevolence. 

Morality  upon  these  three  points  needs  the  aid  of 
law,  but  not  to  the  same  degree  nor  in  the  same  man- 
ner. 


278  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

L  The  rules  of  prudence  will  suffice  almost  al- 
ways for  themselves.  If  a  man  is  wanting  to  him- 
self (blind  to  his  own  interest),  it  is  not  his  will 
which  is  in  fault,  it  is  his  judgment.  If  he  wrongs 
himself,  it  is  only  from  error.  The  dread  of  self-in- 
jury is  so  strong  a  restraining  motive,  it  would  be  use- 
less to  add  to  it  the  fear  of  an  artificial  pain.  (48) 

The  contrary,  some  one  will  say,  is  demonstrated 
by  facts  :  excesses  at  play,  those  of  intemperance, 
the  illicit  commerce  of  the  sexes  accompanied  so 
often  with  great  danger,  are  enough  to  prove  that  in- 
dividuals have  not  sufficient  prudence  to  abstain  from 
what  is  hurtful. 

Confining  myself  to  a  general  answer,  I  should  say, 
first,  that  in  the  majority  of  these  cases,  the  punish- 
ment being  easily  eluded,  is  inefficacious,-  and  second- 
ly, that  the  evil  produced  by  the  penal  law  would  be 
much  greater  than  that  of  the  offence. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  a  legislator  believes  him- 
self justified  in  trying  to  extirpate  by  direct  laws, 
drunkenness  and  fornication.  It  will  be  necessary  to 
begin  with  a  multitude  of  rules.  Complication  of  the 
law — the  first  inconvenience,  and  a  very  serious  one. 
The  more  easily  these  crimes  are  concealed,  the  more 
severe  should  be  the  penalties,  for  the  purpose  of 
counterbalancing,  by  the  terror  of  example,  the  hope 
of  impunity,  which  is  always  reviving.  (49)  Exces- 
sive rigour  of  the  law — second  inconvenience,  not 
less  grave.  The  difficulty  of  procuring  proof  would 
be  such,  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  encourage  in- 
formers, and  to  keep  up  an  army  of  spies.  Necessity 

(48)  Yet  the  legislators  of  England,  of  other  parts  of  Europe,  and  of  thia 
country,  would  punish  the  self-murderer;  now  by  forfeiture,  now  by  ignomi- 
nious burial,  now  by  driving  a  stake  through  the  body.     N. 

(49)  Here  we  have  the  germ  of  Mr.  Bentham's  celebrated  work  on  RE- 
WARDS AND  PUNISHMENTS, — a  work  which  has  led  to  a  more  philosophi- 
cal study  of  the  principles  of  penal  legislation,  than  all  that  ever  had  been  said, 
or  done,  or  written  before.    Mr.  Livingston  (of  Louisiana)  has  built  his  famous 
code  upon  it.     N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  279 

of  espionage — third  inconvenience,  worse  than  the  two 
first.  Compare  the  effects  in  good  and  evil.  Crimes 
of  that  nature,  if  one  may  give  such  a  name  to  such 
follies,  are  productive  of  no  alarm  ;  (50)  but  the  sup- 
posed remedy  would  fill  the  community  with  fear ;  in- 
nocent or  guilty,  every  one  would  fear  on  account  of 
himself  or  of  others.  Suspicions  and  informations 
would  make  all  society  dangerous.  Every  body  would 
fly  from  it,  and  betake  himself  to  mystery  and  distrust, 
the  overthrow  of  confidence.  Instead  of  having  sup- 
pressed one  vice,  the  law  would  have  sown  the  seeds 
of  newer  and  more  dangerous  ones. 

It  is  true  that  example  may  render  certain  excesses 
contagious ;  and  that  an  evil  which  would  be  almost 
imperceptible  if  it  were  confined  to  a  small  number 
of  individuals,  may  become  very  obvious  by  its  extent. 
All  that  the  legislator  can  do,  respecting  offences  of 
this  sort,  is  to  subject  it  to  some  slight  punishment  in 
cases  of  scandalous  notoriety,  that  will  suffice  to  give 
it  a  taint  of  illegality  which  would  excite  against  it 
the  popular  sanction. 

It  is  here  that  legislators  in  general, have  legislated 
too  much.  Instead  of  trusting  themselves  to  the  pru- 
dence of  individuals,  they  have  treated  them  like  chil- 
dren and  slaves.  They  have  yielded  to  the  same  pas- 
sion as  the  founders  of  the  religious  orders,  who,  the 
better  to  show  their  authority,  and  littleness  of  spirit, 
held  their  subjects  in  the  most  abject  dependence, 
and  marked  out  for  them,  day  by  day,  moment  by 
moment,  their  occupations,  their  aliment,  their  time 
of  going  to  bed  and  their  time  of  getting  up,  with  all 
the  intermediate  details  of  behaviour.  There  are 
celebrated  codes,  wherein  we  discover  a  multitude  of 
shackles  of  that  sort :  such  as  idle  restraints  of  mar- 
riage, punishments  for  celibacy,  sumptuary  laws  fix- 

(50)  No  definite  alarm  perhaps;  for  such  things  occur  by  the  consent  of 
parties.  But  ia  there  no  vague  alarm  for  the  virtuous  ?  for  parents,  and  for 
guardians  ?  N. 


280  DUMOXT'S    BENTUAM. 

ing  the  fashion  of  habits,  the  expense  of  entertain- 
ments, the  furniture  of  a  house,  the  ornaments  of 
women ;  there  are  infinite  details  upon  food  which  is 
prohibited  or  forbidden,  ablutions  of  such  or  sueh  a 
nature,  purifications  of  health  or  of  property,  and  a 
thousand  other  puerilities  which  add  to  all  the  incon- 
venience of  a  useless  restraint,  that  of  brutifying  a 
people,  by  covering  these  absurdities  with  a  veil  of 
mystery. 

Yet  more  unhappy  are  the  states  where  it  has  been 
sought  to  produce  uniformity  of  religious  opinion,  by 
penal  laws.  The  choice  of  a  religion  is  a  matter  of 
individual  prudence.  If  men  are  persuaded  that  their 
eternal  happiness  depends  upon  a  certain  worship  or 
a  certain  faith,  what  can  the  legislator  oppose  to  such 
an  interest?  I  need  not  insist  upon  this  truth  :  it  is 
now  generally  acknowledged;  but  in  tracing  the  boun- 
daries of  legislation,  I  could  not  overlook  those,  which 
it  is  most  important  never  to  pass. 

General  Rule.  Leave  to  individuals  the  greatest 
possible  latitude,  in  every  case  where  they  can  only 
injure  themselves,  (51)  for  they  are  the  best  judges 
of  their  own  interests.  (52)  If  they  deceive  them- 
selves, the  moment  they  perceive  their  error,  it  is  to 
be  presumed  they  w  ill  not  persist.  Do  not  suffer  the 
power  of  the  law  to  interfere,  unless  to  prevent  their 
injuring  each  other.  It  is  there  that  law  is  necessary  ; 
it  is  there  that  the  application  of  punishment  is  truly 
useful,  since  the  rigour  shown  toward  one  may  ensure 
the  safety  of  all. 

II.  It  is  true  that  there  is  a  natural  connexion  be- 
tween prudence  and  probity;  that  is  to  say,  that  our 
interest,  well  understood,  (53)  will  never  leave  us  des 

(51)  Are  there  any  such  cases,  properly  and  cautiously  speaking  ?     N. 

(52)  Not  always;  but  if  they  are  not,  legislation  will  do  more  harm  than 
good,  where  it  abridges  liberty  in  trifles.     N. 

(53)  And  here  too,  we  have  the  whole  doctrines  of  utility  and  self-interest, 
Ivinjr  in  a  nut-shell.     N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  281 

titute  of  a  motive  for  abstaining  from  injury  to 
others. 

Let  us  pause  a  moment  upon  this  point.  I  say, 
that,  independently  of  religion  and  the  laws,  we  have 
always  some  natural  motives  ;  that  is,  motives  drawn 
from  our  own  interest;  for  consulting  the  happiness 
of  others.  1.  The  motive  of  pure  benevolence, — a 
calm  and  sweet  feeling,  that  we  love  to  enjoy,  and 
which  makes  one  reluctant  to  cause  suffering:  2.  The 
motive  of  private  affections,  which  exercise  their 
power  in  domestic  life,  and  within  the  private  circle 
of  our  relationships:  3.  The  desire  of  a  good  (repu- 
tation, and  the  fear  of  blame.  This  is  a  sort  of  cal- 
culation— a  matter  of  trade ;  we  pay,  that  we  may 
have  credit — we  speak  truth,  that  we  may  obtain 
confidence — we  serve,  that  we  may  be  served.  It  is 
in  this  sense  that  a  man  of  wit  said,  that  if  probity 
did  not  exist,  it  would  be  necessary  to  contrive  it,  as 
the  means  of  making  a  fortune. 

A  man  enlightened  upon  his  own  interest,  would 
not  be  guilty  even  of  a  concealed  crime, — whether 
from  the  fear  of  contracting  a  shameful  habit,  which 
will  be  sure  to  betray  him  sooner  or  later ;  or  because 
secrets  concealed  from  penetrating  eyes,  leave  at  the 
bottom  of  the  heart  an  inquietude  which  corrupts  all 
pleasure.  Whatever  he  might  be  able  to  acquire  at 
the  expense  of  security  would  be  of  no  value;  and  if 
he  is  jealous  of  the  esteem  of  men,  the  best  guarantee 
of  it  that  he  can  have,  is  his  own  esteem.  (54) 

But  for  an  individual  to  perceive  the  whole  of  that 
connexion  between  the  interest  of  others  and  his  own, 
he  should  possess  an  enlightened  understanding,  and 
a  heart  free  from  the  seductive  passions.  The  great- 
er part  of  mankind  have  not  enough  intelligence,  nor 
enough  strength  of  soul,  nor  enough  moral  sensi- 

(54)  Who  is  there  to  question  the  sublime  philosophy,  the  profound  morality 
of  this?     N. 

36 


282  DUMONT'S    BENTHAM 

bility,  for  their  private  worth  to  be  of  much  use  in 
aid  of  the  law.  The  legislator  ought  to  sustain  the 
weakness  of  that  natural  interest,  in  adding  to  it  an 
artificial  interest  more  obvious  and  more  constant. 

Yet  more.  In  many  cases,  morality  derives  its  ex- 
istence from  the  law, — that  is  to  say  :  To  decide 
whether  an  action  is  morally  good,  or  bad,  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  know  whether  it  is  permitted  or  forbidden 
by  the  law :  it  is  the  same  with  what  concerns  pro- 
perty. A  mode  of  selling  and  acquiring,  contrary  to 
good  faith  in  one  country,  may  be  irreproachable  in 
another.  It  is  the  same  with  offences  against  the 
state.  The  state  exists  only  by  legislation.  We  can- 
not establish  the  duties  of  morality  without  knowing 
the  institution  of  the  legislator.  For  example, — there 
are  countries  where  it  would  be  a  crime  for  a  subject 
to  enlist  in  the  service  of  another ;  and  countries 
where  to  do  so,  would  be  legitimate  and  honoura- 
ble.* 

III.  As  to  beneficence,  we  are  bound  to  distinguish. 
Law  may  extend  itself  far  enough  for  general  objects, 
such  as  the  care  of  the  poor,  &c.  ;  but  in  detail,  we 
must  refer  it  to  private  morality.  Beneficence  has 
its  mysteries,  and  employs  itself  upon  evils  so  unfore- 
seen, or  so  secret,  that  the  law  cannot  take  notice  of 
them.  Besides  it  is  to  the  free-will  of  the  individual 
that  beneficence  owes  its  energy;  if  the  same  acts 
were  to  be  commanded,  they  would  be  no  longer 
benefits,  they  would  lose  their  attractiveness  and  their 
essence.  It  is  morality,  and  above  all,  it  is  religion 
which  forms  here  the  necessary  aid  to  legislation,  and 
the  most  kindly  tie  of  humanity.  (55) 

*  This  touches  upon  one  of  the  most  difficult  questions:  if  the  law  is  not 
what  it  ought  to  be;  if  it  is  at  open  war  with  the  principle  of  utility — shall  it 
be  obeyed  ?  shall  it  be  violated  ?  or  shall  we  remain  neuter  between  the  law 
which  authorizes  the  evil  and  the  morality  which  forbids  it  ?  The  solution  of 
this  problem  may  be  drawn  from  a  consideration  of  prudence  and  benevolence. 
We  are  to  see  if  there  would  be  more  evil  in  observing  the  law,  than  in  vio- 
lating it:  Whether  the  probable  evils  of  obedience  are  less  than  the  probable 
evils  of  disobedience.  B. 

(55)  This  I  take  to  be  editorial;  for  it  is  not  true  of  every  religion.  The 
author  would  speak  more  warily.  N. 


PRINCIPLES    OF    LEGISLATION.  283 

However,  instead  of  having  done  too  much  in  this 
way,  legislators  have  not  done  enough  ;  they  should 
have  made  the  refusal,  or  omission  of  an  act  of  hu- 
manity, a  crime,  when  it  is  easy  to  render,  and  when 
there  results  from  the  refusal  any  misfortune  :  to 
abandon,  for  example,  a  wounded  person  in  a  solitary 
road,  without  looking  for  help;  not  to  warn  a  person 
who  is  handling  poison ;  not  to  reach  a  hand  to  an- 
other who  has  fallen  overboard,  or  into  a  place  out  of 
which  he  cannot  escape  without  assistance.  In  these 
cases,  and  others  of  the  same  sort,  who  would  com- 
plain of  a  punishment  which  was  satisfied  by  expos- 
ing the  delinquent  to  a  certain  degree  of  shame,  or 
by  rendering  him  responsible  in  his  fortune  for  the 
evil  which  he  might  have  prevented  ? 

I  may  observe  here,  that  the  legislature  should  have 
gone  somewhat  further  than  it  has  done,  relative  to 
the  interests  of  the  inferior  animals  :  (56) — Not  that 
I  approve  the  law  of  the  Gentoos  in  that  respect. 
There  are  good  reasons  for  making  animals  serve  for 
the  nourishment  of  man,  and  for  destroying  those  who 
are  troublesome  or  noxious  :  We  are  the  better  for  it, 
and  they  are  none  the  worse,  for  they  are  not  trou- 
bled as  we  are  with  long  and  bitter  anticipations  of 
the  future ;  and  the  death  which  they  receive  from 
us,  may  always  be  less  painful  than  that  which  they 
would  receive  in  the  inevitable  course  of  nature.*  But 
what  can  we  say  to  justify  the  useless  torments  which 
they  are  made  to  suffer,  by  our  cruel  whims  ?  Among 

(56)  The  friends  of  humanity  will  read  this  with  pleasure.  They  are  be- 
ginning to  perceive,  and  to  acknowledge,  that  the  dumb  beast  may  be  legislated 
for,  without  a  derogation  of  dignity.  And  why  not,  if  he  may  be  tortured  to 
death  by  man,  without  reproach  to  his  dignity  ?  N. 

*  A  friend  has  added  a  note  here,  which  is  worth  preserving. 

This  is  a  subject  which  passes  in  review  with  every  humane  and  enlightened 
mind.  I  have  quieted  my  conscience  upon  this  matter  without  robbing  my 
stomach,  by  believing  that  population,  applying  the  word  to  man  and  beast, 
is  governed  entirely  by  the  means  of  subsistence.  Man  is  checked  by  a  regard 
to  consequences — the  brute  creation  can  be  restrained  only  by  preventing  sexual 
intercourse,  or  by  violent  death. 


284  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

all  the  reasons  which  might  be  given  for  declaring 
gratuitous  cruelties  toward  them  a  crime,  I  shall  con- 
fine myself  to  that  which  relates  to  my  subject :  it  is 
a  means  of  cultivating  the  general  sentiment  of  be- 
nevolence, and  of  rendering  men  kinder,  or  at  least 
of  preventing  that  brutal  depravity,  which,  after  hav- 
ing amused  itself  with  animals,  may  require,  in  its 
after-growth  to  be  assuaged  by  human  suffering.* 

*  See  the  voyage  of  Barrow  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope;  and  the  cruelty  of 
the  Dutch  colonists  toward  the  inferior  animals  and  the  slaves  there.     B. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  285 


CHAPTER    XIII.     (57) 

EXAMPLES       OF       FALSE       MODES       OF        REASONING       0  it 
THE       SUBJECT       OF       LEGISLATION. 

THE  object  of  this  introduction  has  been  to  give 
a  clear  idea  of  the  Principle  of  Utility,  and  of  the 
manner  of  reasoning  conformably  to  that  principle. 
There  results  from  it  a  logic  of  legislation,  which  may 
be  summed  up  in  few  words. 

What  is  it  to  give  a  good  reason,  for  a  law?  It 
is  to  show  the  good  and  the  evil  which  that  law 
tends  to  produce  :  so  much  good,  so  much  argument 
in  its  favour:  so  much  evil,  so  much  argument  against 
it.  But  we  are  not  to  forget,  that  good  and  evil  are 
but  other  names  for  pleasure  and  pain. 

What  is  it  to  give  a  bad  reason  f  It  is  to  allege  for 
or  against  a  law,  any  other  thing  than  its  effects, 
whether  good  or  evil. 

Nothing  more  simple  ;  yet  nothing  more  new.  It 
is  not  the  principle  of  Utility  which  is  new ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  of  necessity  as  ancient  as  the  race  of 
man.  Whatever  there  is  of  truth  in  morals,  whatever 
there  is  of  good  in  law,  proceeds  from  this  principle ; 
but  it  has  been  more  often  followed  from  instinct, 
even  while  it  was  attacked  by  reason.  If,  in  the 
books  of  legislation,  it  throws  up  here  and  there  a 
few  flashes,  they  are  soon  stifled  in  the  smoke  which 
surrounds  them.  Beccaria  is  the  only  one  who  de- 
serves an  exception  ;  and  yet,  even  in  his  work,  rea- 

(57)  This  chapter  contains  the  very  pith  and  marrow  of  Mr.  Bentham's  ce- 
lebrated work  on  FALLACIES,  reviewed  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  and  West- 
minster Review.  N. 


286  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

i 

sons   may  be   found    which   are   drawn   from    false 
sources. 

It  is  nearly  two  thousand  years  since  Aristotle  un- 
dertook to  form  under  the  name  of  sophisms,  a  com- 
plete catalogue  of  the  divers  modes  of  reasoning  false- 
ly. His  catalogue,  improved  by  the  help  of  what  so 
long  an  interval  has  given  birth  to,  would  have  here 
its  use  and  its  place :  but  it  is  a  work  which  would 
lead  too  far.*  I  shall  confine  myself  to  presenting 
some  heads  of  error  on  the  subject  of  legislation;  it 
is  a  sort  of  map  reduced  from  the  most  common  false 
routes.  The  principle  of  Utility  will  be  worthily  il- 
lustrated by  the  contrast, 

1 .  Antiquity  of  the  law  is  not  reason. 

The  antiquity  of  a  law  may  create  a  prejudice  in 
its  favour  ;  but  it  is  not  a  reason  of  itself.  If  the  law 
in  question  has  contributed  to  public  happiness,  the 
more  ancient  it  is,  the  more  easy  it  will  be  to  show 
its  good  effects,  (58)  and  to  prove  its  utility  in  a  di- 
rect maner. 

2.  Religious  authority  is  not  reason. 

This  mode  of  reasoning  has  become  rare  in  our 
age — but  for  a  long  while  it  prevailed.  The  work  of 
Algernon  Sydney  is  full  of  quotations  from  the  Old 
Testament,  and  he  discovered  there  a  foundation  for 
a  system  of  democracy,  as  Bossuet  did,  the  basis  of 
absolute  power.  Sydney  wished  to  combat  the  parti- 
zans  of  divine  right  and  passive  obedience  with  their 
own  weapons. 

If  we  suppose  a  law  to  emanate  from  the  Divinity, 
we  suppose  it  to  emanate  from  supreme  goodness  and 
wisdom.  The  object  of  such  a  law,  therefore,  could 

*  See  the  Traite  de  Sophisms  Politiques,  that  I  have  published  from  the 
MS.  of  Mr.  Bentham,  (at  the  end  of  Tactiquedes  Assemblers  Legislatives, 
1816.  2  vols.  8vo.)  D. 

(58)  This  may  be  doubted.  A  law  may  have  a  bad  effect  upon  the  man- 
ners, and  morals,  and  character  of  people,  and  yet,  because  of  its  antiquity, 
it  may  not  be  possible  to  show  this.  We  must  be  able,  either  to  see,  or  to  trace 
the  changes  that  are  brought  about  by  law  ;  or  how  can  we  show  its  effects  to 
be  good  or  bad  ?  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  287 

only  be  the  greatest  utility  :  But  to  justify  the  law,  it 
is  always  necessary  to  show  that  utility. 

3.  Reproach  of  innovation  is  not  reason. 

To  reject  all  innovation  is  to  reject  all  improve- 
ment :  In  what  a  condition  should  we  be,  if  we  had 
followed  such  a  principle  up  to  this  time  ?  For  what 
exists  now,  had  its  beginning  ;  whatever  is  now  esta- 
blishment, was  once  innovation.  Those  who  approve 
a  law  to-day  because  of  its  antiquity,  would  have 
blamed  it  once  for  being  new. 

4.  Arbitrary  definition  is  not  reason. 

Nothing  is  more  common  among  jurists  and  politi- 
cal writers,  than  to  build  up  theories,  and  even  to 
construct  huge  works  upon  definitions  that  are  pure- 
ly arbitrary.  All  the  artifice  consists  in  taking  a 
word  in  a  particular  sense,  far  out  of  the  common  ac- 
ceptation, and  employing  this  word  as  it  had  never 
been  employed  before,  thereby  bewildering  the  read- 
er with  an  appearance  of  depth  and  mystery. 

Montesquieu  himself  has  fallen  into  this  vice  of  rea- 
soning in  the  outset  of  his  work.  Wishing  to  define 
law,  he  proceeds  from  metaphor  to  metaphor ;  he 
brings  together  objects  the  most  unlike,  the  divinity, 
the  material  world,  superior  intelligences,  beasts  and 
men ;  from  which  we  learn  that  the  laws  are  rela- 
tions and  eternal  relations.  Thus  the  definition  is 
more  obscure  than  the  thing  to  be  defined.  The  word 
law,  in  the  proper  sense,  gives  a  tolerably  clear  idea 
to  every  mind — the  word  relation  gives  none  at  all. 
The  word  law,  in  the  figurative  sense,  produces  no- 
thing biit  equivocal  ideas,  and  Montesquieu,  who 
should  have  dissipated  these  clouds,  augments  them. 

The  characteristic  of  a  false  definition  is, — that  it 
cannot  be  employed  in  a  fixed  manner.  A  little  fur- 
ther (Ch.  III.)  the  author  defines  the  law  differently. 
Law  in  general,  says  he,  is  human  reason,  inasmuch  as 
it  governs  all  the  people  of  the  earth.  These  terms 
are  more  familiar,  but  there  does  not  result  from  them 


288  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

any  clearer  idea.  Does  it  not  follow  that  all  the  fero- 
cious, absurd,  or  contradictory  laws,  in  a  state  of  per- 
petual change,  are  always  human  reason  ?  'It  appears 
to  me  that  reason,  far  from  being  law,  is  often  oppos- 
ed to  law. 

This  first  chapter  of  Montesquieu  has  given  rise 
to  a  deal  of  gossip.  Men  have  exhausted  their  minds 
in  trying  to  discover  metaphysical  mysteries  where 
they  are  not.  Beccaria  himself,  is  carried  away  by 
that  obscure  idea  of  relation.  To  interrogate  a  man, 
whether  he  is  guilty  or  innocent,  is  to  force  him, 
says  he,  to  accuse  himself.  This  procedure  shocks 
him,  and  why  ?  Because,  according  to  him,  it  is  to 
confound  all  relations.  (59)  What  does  he  mean  by 
that  ?  To  enjoy,  to  suffer,  to  give  pleasure,  to  give 
pain  ;  these  are  expressions  that  I  understand  the 
meaning  of ;  but  to  follow  relations,  and  to  confound 
relations — that  is  what  I  do  not  understand  at  all. 
These  abstract  terms  do  not  excite  any  idea  in  me, 
nor  awaken  any  opinion.  I  feel  an  absolute  indiffer- 
ence about  relations  ;  but  pleasures  and  pains — they 
interest  me,  they  are  intelligible. 

Rousseau  was  not  satisfied  with  that  definition  of 
Montesquieu  ;  he  has  given  one  of  his  own,  which 
he  puts  forth  as  a  great  discovery.  Law,  says  he, 
is  the  expression  of  the  general  will.  There  is  then 

(59)  '  No  man  can  be  judged  a  criminal,  until  he  be  found  guilty  ;  nor  can 
society  take  from  him  the  public  protection,  until  it  have  been  proved  that  he 
has  violated  the  conditions  on  which  it  was  granted.  What  right,  then,  but 
that  of  power,  can  authorise  the  punishment  of  a  citizen,  so  long  as  there  re- 
mains any  doubt  of  his  guilt  ?  The  dilemma  is  frequent.  Either  he  is  guilty, 
or  not  guilty.  If  guilty,  he  should  only  suffer  the  punishment  ordained  by  the 
laws,  and  torture  becomes  useless,  as  his  concession  is  unnecessary.  If  he  be 
not  guilty,  you  torture  the  innocent  ;  for,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  every  man  is 
innocent,  whose  crime  has  not  been  proved.  Besides,  it  is  confounding  all 
relations,  to  expect  that  a  man  should  be  both  the  accuser  and  accused  ; 
and  that  pain  should  be  the  test  of  truth,  as  if  truth  resided  in  the  muscles  and 
fibres  of  a  wretch  in  torture.  By  this  method,  the  robust  will  escape,  and  the 
feeble  be  condemned.  These  are  the  inconveniences  of  this  pretended  test  of 
truth,  worthy  only  of  a  cannibal  ;  and  which  the  llomans,  in  many  respects 
barbarous,  and  whose  savage  virtue  has  been  too  much  admired,  reserved  for 
their  slaves  alone.' — BECCARIA  on  Crimes,  Chap.  xvi. 


PRINCIPLES   OF  LEGISLATION  289 

no  law  any  where,  about  which  the  people  in  a 
body  have-not  debated ;  there  is  no  law  but  in  an 
absolute  democracy  ;  he  has  abrogated  by  this  defi- 
nition, every  existing  law.  He  has  struck  with  im- 
becility all  those  which  have  been  made  successively 
by  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  except,  per  adventure, 
those  of  the  Republic  of  San  Marino. 

/).  Metaphor  is  not  reason. 

I  understand  by  this,  either  a  metaphor,  properly 
speaking,  or  an  allegory,  of  which  we  make  use  (at 
first)  for  clearing  or  ornamenting  a  discourse,  and 
which  by  little  and  little  becomes  the  foundation  of 
an  argument. 

Blackstone,  (60)  so  great  an  enemy  to  all  reform, 
as  to  blame  the  introduction  of  the  English  language 
into  the  reports  of  the  law,  has  neglected  nothing  to 
inspire  the  same  prejudice  in  his  readers.  He  repre- 
sents the  law  as  a  castle,  as  a  fortress,  which  cannot 
be  attacked  without  weakening  it.  He  does  not  give 
the  metaphor,  I  acknowledge,  for  a  reason  ;  but  why 
employ  it  at  all  ?  To  lead  the  imagination  astray ;  to 
prejudice  the  reader  against  all  ideas  of  reform  ;  to 
give  him  a  mechanical  fear  of  innovation  in  the  law, 
he  infuses  into  the  mind  a  false  idea  which  produces 
the  same  effect  as  a  false  reason.  He  should  have 
seen  that  his  allegory  might  be  turned  against  him- 
self. After  he  has  made  the  law  a  castle,  is  it  not 
natural  for  ruined  suitors  to  represent  it  as  crowded 
with  harpies.  (61) 

The  house  of  a  man,  say  the  English,  is  his  castle. 
A  poetical  expression  is  not  a  reason  ;  for  if  the  house 
of  a  man  is  his  castle  by  night,  why  is  it  not  by  day  ? 
If  it  is  an  inviolable  asylum  for  the  proprietor,  why 
should  it  not  be  for  every  other  person  whom  he  may 
think  proper  to  receive  ?  The  current  of  justice  is 

(60)  3  Com.  Ch.  XVII. 

(61)  And  why  may  not  a  castle  be  repaired,  if  unsuitable  to  the  age,  or 
unsafe  ?    N. 

37 


290  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

sometimes  checked  in  England  by  this  puerile  notion 
of  liberty.  It  would  appear  that  criminals  ought  to 
have  their  holes,  like  the  foxes,  for  the  pleasure  of 
hunters.  (62) 

A  church  in  catholic  countries,  is  the  House  of  God. 
That  metaphor  has  led  to  its  being  made  an  asylum 
for  criminals.  To  tear  away  by  force,  those  who 
have  fled  for  refuge  to  his  House,  were  to  fail  in  re- 
spect for  God. 

The  balance  of  trade  has  produced  a  multitude  of 
arguments  founded  upon  this  metaphor.  People 
have  imagined  that  they  saw  nations  rise  and  fall  in 
their  mutual  commerce,  like  the  basins  of  a  scale 
charged  with  unequal  weights.  They  are  disquieted 
with  whatever  appears  to  be  a  fault  in  the  equilibri- 
um. They  imagine  that  one  must  lose  and  the  other 
gain,  as  if  something  had  been  taken  from  one  scale, 
and  put  into  the  other. 

The  phrase  mother -country  has  given  birth  to  a 
number  of  prejudices  and  false  arguments  in  all  the 
questions  concerning  colonies  and  the  metropolis. 
Duties  are  imposed  upon  the  colonies ;  and  they  are 
charged  with  crimes  founded  also  upon  the  metaphor 
concerning  their  filial  dependence. 

6.  Fiction  is  not  reason. 

I  understand  by  fiction,  a  fact  notoriously  false, 
upon  which  people  reason  as  if  it  were  true. 

The  celebrated  Cocceiji,  compiler  of  the  Code  Fre- 
deric, furnishes  an  example  of  this  mode  of  reason- 
ing, on  the  subject  of  wills.  After  a  deal  of  talk 
about  natural  right,  he  approves  of  the  law  of  leaving 
to  individuals  the  power  of  bequest.  And  why  ?  It  is 
because  the  heir  and  the  defunct  are  but  one  and  the 
same  person  ;  and  consequently  the  heir  ought  to  continue 
to  enjoy  the  defunct's  property.  (Cod.  Fred,  part  II.  1. 
110,  p.  156.)  It  is- true  that  he  gives  elsewhere  some 

(62)  It  gives  them  another  chance  for  another  day  of  sport.    N. 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  291 

arguments  which  have  to  do  with  the  principle  of  Uti- 
lity ;  but  this  is  in  the  preface,  where  he  only  gives 
a  prelude.  The  serious  reason,  the  judicial  reason,  is 
the  identity  of  the  living  with  the  dead. 

The  English  jurists,  to  justify  in  certain  cases,  the 
confiscation  of  goods,  have  hit  upon  a  reason  suffi- 
ciently like  that  of  the  chancellor  of  the  great  Fre- 
derick. They  have  imagined  a  corruption  of  blood, 
W7hich  stops  the  course  of  legal  succession  ;  a  man  is 
punished  with  death  for  the  crime  of  high  treason  ; 
the  innocent  son  is  not  only  deprived  of  the  estate  of 
his  father,  but  he  cannot  even  inherit  from  his  grand- 
father, because  the  channel  through  which  the  estate 
ought  to  pass,  has  been  sullied.  This  fiction  of  ori- 
ginal political  sin,  serves  as  a  foundation  for  this  point 
of  right.  But  why  stop  there  ?  If  there  is  a  corrup- 
tion of  blood,  why  not  destroy  the  vile  refuse  of  a 
criminal  stock  ? 

In  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  first  book,  Black- 
stone,  in  speaking  of  the  royal  authority,  has  aban- 
doned himself  to  all  the  puerility  of  fiction.  The 
king  has  his  attributes,  he  is  present  every  where,  he 
can  do  no  wrong,  he  is  immortal. 

These  ridiculous  paradoxes,  the  fruit  of  servility, 
so  far  from  giving  just  ideas  upon  the  prerogatives  of 
royalty,  only  serve  to  dazzle  and  mislead,  to  give  to 
reality  itself  an  air  of  fable  and  prodigy.  They  are 
not  mere  flourishes,  they  are  the  foundation  of  many 
theories.  They  are  made  use  of  to  explain  royal  pre- 
rogatives, which  might  be  justified  by  very  good  rea- 
sons, without  perceiving  that  the  best  cause  is  injured, 
by  seeking  to  sustain  it  with  futile  arguments.  The 
judges,  says  he  again,  are  the  mirrors  in  ivhich  the 
linage  of  that  king  is  reflected.  How  puerile  !  Is  it 
not  to  expose  to  ridicule  the  very  object  upon  which 
he  proposes  to  throw  splendour? 

But  there  are  bolder  and  more  important  fictions, 
which  have  played  a  grand  part  in  politics,  and  which 


292  DUMONT'S   BExXTHAM. 

have  produced  celebrated  works :  they  are  the  con- 
tracts. 

The  Leviathan  of  Hobbes,  a  work  little  known, 
and  detested  by  the  prejudiced  now,  as  the  code  of 
despotism,  made  the  whole  body  of  political  society 
depend  upon  an  imaginary  contract  between  the  peo- 
ple and  the  sovereign.  The  people,  by  this  contract, 
have  renounced  their  natural  liberty,  which  was  pro- 
ductive only  of  evil,  and  deposited  all  power  in  the 
hands  of  the  prince.  All  these  contrary  wills  have 
come  to  reunite  themselves  in  his,  or  rather  to  be 
swallowed  up  in  his.  What  he  wills  is  reckoned  the 
will  of  all  his  subjects.  When  David  put  Uriah  to 
death,  he  acted  in  that  by  the  consent  of  Uriah. 
Uriah  had  agreed  to  all  that  David  could  do  to  him. 
The  prince,  by  this  system,  may  sin  against  God,  but 
he  cannot  sin  against  man,  because  all  that  he  does, 
proceeds  from  the  general  consent.  WTe  cannot  have 
the  idea  of  resisting  him,  because  it  implies  the  con- 
tradiction of  resisting  ourselves! 

Locke,  whose  name  is  as  dear,  as  that  of  Hobbes 
is  odious  to  the  partizans  of  liberty,  has  also  laid  the 
foundations  of  government  in  contract.  He  maintains 
that  there  exists  a  contract  between  the  prince  and 
the  people ;  that  the  prince  undertakes  to  govern  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  for  the  general  good,  and  that 
the  people,  on  their  side,  undertake  to  obey,  so  long 
as  the  prince  remains  faithful  to  the  conditions,  by 
virtue  of  which  he  has  received  the  crown. 

Rousseau  rejects  with  indignation  the  idea  of  this 
two-sided  contract  between  the  prince  and  the  peo- 
ple. But  he  has  imagined  a  social  contract,  whereby 
all  engage  with  all,  which  is  the  only  legitimate  base 
of  governments.  Society  only  exists  by  the  free 
agreement  of  all  the  members. 

O 

In  all  this,  what  there  is  common  to  the  three  sys- 
tems, otherwise  so  opposite,  is,  that  of  beginning  all 
political  theory  by  a  fiction  ;  for  these  three  contracts 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  293 

are  all  equally  fictitious.  They  exist  only  in  the 
imagination  of  their  authors.  Not  only  do  we  find 
no  trace  of  them  in  history — but  history  furnishes 
every  where,  proof  to  the  contrary. 

That  of  Hobbes  is  a  manifest  lie.  Despotism  has 
been  every  where  the  effect  of  violence,  and  of  false 
religious  ideas.  If  there  exists  a  people  who  have 
placed  the  supreme  authority,  by  a  public  act,  in  the 
hands  of  their  chief,  it  is  not  true  that  this  people 
have  agreed  to  all  the  cruelties  and  caprices  of  the 
sovereign.  The  singular  act  of  the  Danish  people, 
in  1660,  contains  essential  clauses,  which  limit  the 
supreme  power. 

The  social  contract  of  Rousseau,  has  not  been  so 
severely  judged,  since  men  are  not  difficult  upon  the 
logic  of  a  system,  which  establishes  all  that  they 
most  love,  liberty  and  equality.  But  where  was  that 
universal  convention  held?  What  are  its  clauses? 
In  what  language  is  it  preserved?  Why  has  it  al- 
ways been  unknown?  Was  it  in  escaping  from  the 
wilderness,  in  giving  up  a  savage  life,  that  they  have 
had  these  grand  ideas  of  morals  and  politics,  upon 
which  this  primitive  convention  was  built? 

The  contract  of  Locke  is  more  specious,  since,  in 
fact,  there  are  monarchies,  in  which  the  sovereign 
does  undertake  to  do  certain  things  on  coming  to  the 
throne,  and  agrees  to  certain  conditions  on  the  part 
of  the  nation  which  he  is  going  to  rule  over. 

The  contract,  however,  is  still  a  fiction.  The  es- 
sence of  a  contract  is  in  the  free  consent  of  the  par- 
ties interested.  It  supposes  that  all  the  objects  of 
the  engagement  are  specific  and  known :  But  if  the 
prince,  on  coming  to  the  throne,  is  free  to  accept  or 
refuse;  are  the  people  equally  so?  Are  a  few  vague 
acclamations,  an  act  both  of  individual  and  universal 
consent?  Can  this  contract  be  binding  on  that  mul- 
titude of  individuals  who  never  heard  of  it ;  who 
have  not  been  called  to  sanction  it ;  and  who  would 


294  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

not  have  been  able  to  refuse  their  consent,  without 
exposing  their  fortune  and  life  ?  Besides,  in  most 
monarchies,  this  imaginary  contract  has  not  even 
that  feeble  appearance  of  reality  ;  not  the  shadow 
of  an  engagement  between  the  sovereign  and  the 
people  can  be  perceived. 

We  are  not  to  make  the  happiness  of  the  human 
race  dependent  upon  a  fiction.  We  are  not  to  erect 
the  social  pyramid  upon  foundations  of  sand,  or  upon 
a  clay  that  crumbles.  Let  us  leave  these  toys  to 
children;  men  ought  to  speak  the  language  of  truth 
and  reason. 

The  true  political  tie  is  in  the  immense  interest  of 
man  to  maintain  a  government.  Without  government, 
is  no  safety,  no  family,  no  property,  no  industry.  It 
is  there  that  we  are  to  seek  the  basis  and  the  reason 
for  all  governments,  whatever  may  be  their  origin  or 
their  form:  it  is  in  comparing  them  with  their  object, 
that  we  are  enabled  to  reason  solidly  upon  their  rights 
and  obligations,  without  having  recourse  to  imaginary 
contracts,  which  can  only  serve  to  give  birth  to  inter- 
minable disputes. 

7.  A  fantastical  reason  is  no  reason. 

Nothing  is  more  common  than  to  say,  reason  wills; 
eternal  reason  prescribes,  etc.  But  what  is  that  reason? 
If  it  is  a  distinct  view  of  good  and  evil,  it  is  a  fantasy, 
a  despotism,  which  shows  only  the  inward  persuasion 
of  the  speaker. 

Let  us  examine  the  foundation  upon  which  a 
celebrated  jurist  has  sought  to  establish  the  pa- 
ternal authority.  A  man  of  good  common-sense 
would  see  no  difficulty  in  the  question,  but  a  learned 
man  ought  to  find  mystery  every  where. 

'  The  right  of  the  father  over  his  children,'  says 
Cocceiji,  'is  founded  upon  reason.  1.  Children  are 
procreated  in  the  house  of  which  the  father  is  the 
master.  2.  They  are  born  in  a  family  of  which  he 
is  the  head.  3.  They  are  of  his  seed,  and  a  part  of 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  295 

his  body.'  These  are  the  reasons  from  which  he  con- 
cludes, among  other  things,  that  a  man  of  forty  years, 
who  wishes  to  marry,  ought  to  abide  the  consent  of 
an  old  man  in  his  dotage.  What  there  is  in  common 
through  all  these  reasons,  is,  that  no  one  of  them  has 
any  reference  to  the  interest  of  the  parties;  the  au- 
thor consults  neither  the  advantage  of  the  father,  nor 
that  of  the  children. 

The  right  of  a  father  is,  from  the  first,  an  expres- 
sion wanting  propriety  :  it  is  not  an  unlimited  right, 
an  indivisible  right:  there  are  many  sorts  of  rights 
that  may  be  yielded  or  refused  to  a  father,  each  for 
particular  reasons.  (63) 

The  first  reason  that  he  alleges  is  founded  upon  a 
fact  which  (when  true)  is  only  true  by  accident.  Let 
a  traveller  have  children  which  are  born  in  a  lodging- 
house,  in  a  vessel,  in  the  house  of  a  friend, — behold 
then  the  first  foundation  for  parental  authority  swept 
away.  The  children  of  a  servant,  those  of  a  soldier, 
should  not  be  subjected  to  their  father,  but  to  him  in 
whose  house  they  are  born. 

The  second  reason  has  no  determinate  meaning  ; 
or  at  best,  is  but  a  repetition  of  the  first.  The  child 
of  a  man  who  dwells  in  the  house  of  his  father,  of  his 
elder  brother,  or  of  his  patron,  is  he  born  in  a  family 
of  which  his  father  is  the  head  ? 

The  third  reason  is  as  feeble  as  indecent.  '  The 
child  is  born  from  the  seed  of  the  father,  and  makes 
a  part  of  his  body.'  If  this  is  the  principle  of  a  right, 
we  must  agree  that  it  ought  to  place  the  power  of  the 
mother  much  above  that  of  the  father. 

Let  us  remark  here  an  essential  difference  between 
the  false  principles  and  the  true.  The  principle  of 
Utility,  applying  itself  only  to  the  interest  of  the  par- 
ties, yields  to  circumstances,  and  accommodates  itself 

(63)  Not  clearly  expressed.  Perfect  or  imperfect  rights,  with  their  corre- 
spondent perfect  and  imperfect  obligations,  are  nevertheless  not  of  a  kind  that 
may  be  yielded  or  refused  at  pleasure.  N. 


296  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

to  every  want.     False  principles,  being  founded  upon 
what  is  foreign  to  the  interest  of  individuals,  would 
be  inflexible,  if  they  were  followed  up.     Such  is  the 
character  of  this  imaginary  right  founded  upon  birth. 
The  son  belongs  naturally  to  the  father,  because  the 
matter  of  which  the  son  is  formed  has  circulated  for- 
merly in  the  blood  of  the  father  ;  let  him  make  him 
unhappy,  it  matters  not;  his  right  cannot  be  destroy- 
ed, since  you  cannot  make  his  son  cease  to  be  his  son. 
The  corn  with  which  your  body  is  fed,  grew  in  my 
field  ;  can  it  be  that  you  are  not  therefore  my  slave  ? 
8.   .Antipathy  and  sympathy  are  not  reason. 
It  is  chiefly  in  what  concerns  the  penal  law,  that 
people  go  astray  by  antipathy  :     Antipathies  against 
actions  reputed  offences  ;  antipathies  against  indivi- 
duals reputed  delinquents ;    antipathies  against  the 
ministers  of  justice;  antipathies  against  such  or  such 
a  pain.     This  false  principle  has  reigned  like  a  tyrant 
in  this  vast  province  of  the  law :     Beccaria  was  the 
first  to  dare  to  attack  it  in  front,  with  arms  of  une- 
qualled temper  ;  but  if  he  did  much  to  destroy  the 
usurper,  he  did  too  little  toward  finding  a  substitute. 
It  is  the  principle  of  antipathy  which  leads  us  to 
speak  of  a  crime  as  deserving  a  punishment ;  it  is 
the  correspondent  principle  of  sympathy  which  leads 
us    to  speak  of  an    action    as   meriting   a   reward  : 
The  word  merit  can  only  lead  to  passions  and  to 
errors.     We  ought  only  to  look  at  the  good  and  bad 
effects. 

But  when  I  say  that  antipathies  and  sympathies  are 
not  reason,  I  understand  those  of  the  legislator,  for 
the  antipathies  and  sympathies  of  the  people  may  be 
a  reason,  and  a  very  powerful  reason.  No  matter 
how  absurd  or  pernicious,  the  religion,  or  law,  or  cus- 
toms of  a  people — it  is  enough  if  they  are  attached 
to  them.  The  force  of  their  prejudices,  is  the  mea- 
sure of  management  required.  To  take  away  an  en- 
joyment, a  hope,  however  chimerical  it  may  be,  is  to 


PRINCIPLES   OF   LEGISLATION.  £97 

do  the  same  injury  as  if  we  were  to  take  away  a 
real  enjoyment  or  a  justifiable  hope.  The  pain  of 
a  single  individual,  becomes,  by  sympathy,  the  pain 
of  all.  From  this,  results  a  crowd  of  evils ;  antipa- 
thy against  the  law,  which  offends  the  general  pre- 
judice; antipathy  against  the  body  of  laws  of  which 
it  makes  a  part  ;  antipathy  against  the  govern- 
ment which  causes  them  to  be  executed.  A  disposi- 
tion not  to  contribute  to  their  execution  ;  a  dis- 
position to'  oppose  their  execution  clandestinely; 
a  disposition  to  take  the  government  out  of  the 
power  of  those  who  stiffen  themselves  against  the 
popular  will.  Evils  which  drag  after  them  the 
crimes,  the  whole  of  which  form  that  terrible  com- 
pound which  is  called  rebellion,  civil-war;  evils  which 
lead  to  the  pains  to  which  recourse  is  had  for  check- 
ing them.  Such  is  the  chain  of  gloomy  consequen- 
ces always  ready  to  proceed  from  an  absurd  fantasy. 
The  legislator  must  yield,  therefore,  to  the  violence 
of  a  current,  which  carries  away  whatever  opposes  it. 
Let  us  not  forget  to  observe  here,  however,  that  these 
fantasies  are  not  to  be  the  determining  reason  of  the 
legislator — they  are  the  evils  with  which  he  is  me- 
naced, if  they  are  attacked. 

But  ought  the  legislator  to  be  a  slave  to  the  whims 
of  those  that  he  rules  over?  No.  Between  impru- 
dent opposition  and  servile  condescension,  there  is  a 
safe  and  honourable  middle-way  ;  it  is  to  attack  these 
whims  with  the  only  arms  which  can  prevail,  exam- 
ple and  instruction  :  he  must  explain :  he  must  ad- 
dress himself  to  the  public  reason,  he  must  allow 
time  for  the  unmasking  of  error.  True  reasons  clear- 
ly exposed,  will  be  necessarily  stronger  than  the  false. 
But  the  legislator  is  to  go  cautiously  to  work;  he  need 
not  come  into  immediate  and  forcible  collision  with 
the  public  ignorance.  Indirect  means  may  answer 
his  purpose  better. 

However,  too  much  deference  for  prejudices  is  a 
38 


29S  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

more  common  defect  than  the  contrary  excess.  The 
best  projects  for  the  improvement  of  law  are  cast 
away  on  that  common  objection.  'Prejudice  is  op- 
posed to  it — We  shall  offend  the  people.'  But  how 
know  we  this?  How  have  we  consulted  the  public 
opinion?  What  is  its  organ?  Have  the  whole  peo- 
ple but  one  uniform  way  of  thinking  ?  Are  all  indi- 
viduals of  the  same  opinion — including  the  nineteen- 
twentieths  who  never  heard  the  subject  spoken  of? 
Besides,  if  the  multitude  are  deceived,  are  they  obliged 
to  remain  always  in  error?  Will  not  the  illusions  that 
people  the  darkness  disappear  in  the  broad  light  of 
day  ?  WTould  you  have  the  people  understand  the 
truth  before  it  is  known,  even  to  the  philosophers  and 
sages  of  the  earth  ?  Have  we  not  the  example  of 
other  nations,  that  have  emerged  from  the  same  ig- 
norance, where  the  same  obstacles  have  been  over- 


come : 


After  all,  the  popular  prejudices  serve  less  frequent- 
ly for  motives  than  for  pretexts.  It  is  a  convenient 
passport  for  the  follies  of  statesmen.  The  ignorance 
of  the  people  is  the  favourite  argument  of  the  pusilla- 
nimity and  idleness  of  their  rulers  ;  while  their  true 
motives  are  the  prejudices  from  which  they  them- 
selves have  not  been  able  to  get  free.  The  name  of 
the  people  is  a  signature,  counterfeited  for  the  justi- 
fication of  their  leaders. 

9.  Begging  the  question  is  not  reason. 

Begging  the  question  is  one  of  the  sophisms  men- 
tioned by  Aristotle  ;  but  it  is  a  Proteus, which  is  for- 
ever changing  its  shape,  and  renewing  its  purpose. 

Begging  the  question,  or  rather  assuming  the  ques- 
tion, consists  in  making  use  of  the  very  proposition  in 
dispute,  as  if  it  were  already  proved. 

This  false  mode  of  reasoning  insinuates  itself  into 
morals  and  legislation,  under  the  protection  of  the 
terms  sentimental  or  impassioned. 

Sentimental  or  impassioned  terms,  are  those  which, 


PRINCIPLES  OF   LEGISLATION.  299 

beside  their  principal  meaning,  have  another  acces- 
sary meaning  of  praise  or  blame.  Neuter  terms  are 
those  which  express  only  the  thing  in  question,  with- 
out leading  one  to  presume  either  good  or  evil;  with- 
out carrying  any  foreign  idea  of  blame  or  approba- 
tion. (64) 

But,  we  are  to  observe  that  an  impassioned  term 
includes  or  envelopes  a  proposition  not  expressed,  but 
understood,  which  always  accompanies  the  employ- 
ment of  the  word,  to  the  understanding  of  those  who 
employ  it :  this  proposition  understood,  is  either  of 
blame  or  praise  ;  but  vague  and  indeterminate. 

Need  I  connect  the  idea  of  utility  with  a  term 
which  carries  generally  an  accessory  idea  of  blame  ? 
I  should  appear  to  advance  a  paradox,  and  to  contra- 
dict myself. 

Were  I  to  say,  for  example,  that  such  an  object  of 
luxury  is  good  ?  The  proposition  would  astonish  those 
who  are  accustomed  to  attach  a  sentiment  of  disap- 
probation to  this  word. 

How  am  I  to  examine  this  particular  point,  without 
waking  the  dangerous  association  ?  I  must  have  re- 
course to  a  neuter  word.  I  may  say,  for  example, — 
Such  a  mode  of  spending  one's  revenue,  is  good.  This 
term  provokes  no  prejudices,  and  permits  the  impar- 
tial examination  of  the  object  in  question. 

When  Helvetius  declared  that  all  our  actions  pro- 
ceeded from  the  motive  of  interest,  every  body  rose 
up  against  him,  without  even  wishing  to  understand 
him.  And  why?  It  is  because  the  word  interest 
had  an  evil  meaning,  a  vulgar  acceptation,  by  which 
it  appeared  to  exclude  all  motives  of  pure  attachment 
and  benevolence. 

How  many  doctrines  in  political  matters  are  found- 
ed on  impassioned  terms! 

(64)  Elsewhere  the  author  distinguishes  the  terms  that  are  unfavourable,  by 
reason  of  the  collateral  sentiment  they  convey,  as  dislogistic,  in  opposition  to 
those  that  are  eulogistic.  N. 


300  DUMONT'S    BENTHAM. 

One  man  believes  that  he  has  given  a  reason  in  fa- 
vour of  a  law,  by  saying  that  it  is  conformable  to  the 
principles  of  a  monarchy  or  a  democracy ;  but  that 
signifies  nothing.  If  there  are  persons,  with  whom 
these  words  are  connected  with  accessory  ideas  of 
approbation,  there  are  others  who  attach  contrary 
ideas  to  them.  Let  the  parties  put  themselves  in 
battle-array  ;  the  dispute  would  only  end  with  the 
exhaustion  of  the  combatants;  for  to  begin  a  true  ex- 
amination, we  must  give  up  these  impassioned  terms, 
and  calculate  the  effects  of  the  law  in  question, 
whether  good  or  evil. 

Blackstone  admires  the  combination  of  the  three 
forms  of  government  in  the  British  constitution,  and 
he  concludes  that  it  ought  to  possess  all  the  good 
qualities  united,  of  monarchy,  of  aristocracy,  and  of 
democracy.  Why  did  he  not  perceive  that  without 
changing  his  argument,  one  might  draw  from  it  a  con- 
clusion diametrically  opposite,  and  altogether  as  fair : 
namely,  that  the  British  constitution  ought  to  unite 
all  the  peculiar  vices  of  democracy,  of  aristocracy, 
and  of  monarchy  ?  (65) 

The  word  independence  is  united  with  certain  ac- 
cessory ideas  of  dignity  and  virtue :  the  word  depen- 
dence, is  united  to  accessory  ideas  of  inferiority  and 
corruption.  Wherefore,  the  panegyrists  of  the  Bri- 
tish constitution  admire  the  independence  of  the  pow- 
ers which  compose  the  legislative  power :  it  is  to 
their  view  the  master-piece  of  political  contrivance 
and  sagacity;  the  most  beautiful  feature  of  govern- 
ment. On  the  other  side,  the  detractors  of  that  very 
constitution  do  not  fail  to  insist  upon  the  dependence 
of  each  upon  every  other  of  these  three  powers. 
Neither  in  the  eulogy,  nor  in  the  censure,  do  we  find 
a  reason. 

(65)  One  of  the  first,  and  certainly  the  ablest  adversary,  that  Blackstone 
ever  had,  was  our  author,  while  yet  a  youth.  His  work  entitled  a  FRAG- 
MENT ON  GOVERNMENT,  was  immediately  attributed,  by  such  men  as 
Lord  Mansfield,  to  the  first  writers  and  reasoners  of  the  day.  See  p.  27.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  301 

If  we  consider  the  matter,  we  find  there  is  no  real 
independence.  Have  not  the  king  and  the  majority 
of  the  lords  a  direct  influence  on  the  election  of  the 
house  of  commons  ?  Has  not  the  king  the  power  of 
prorogueing  parliament  at  any  moment ;  and  is  not  this 
power  very  efficacious  ?  Does  not  the  king  exercise 
a  direct  influence  upon  the  honourable  and  lucrative 
employments,  \vhich  he  may  give  and  take  away  at  his 
pleasure  ?  (66)  On  the  other  side,  is  not  the  king  in 
a  state  of  dependence  upon  the  two  houses  of  par- 
liament, and  more  particularly  upon  the  commons, 
since  he  cannot  maintain  himself  without  money  and 
without  an  army,  and  these  two  principal  objects  are 
absolutely  in  the  hands  of  the  deputies  of  the  nation  ? 
Is  the  chamber  of  peers  independent,  so  long  as  the 
king  may  add  to  their  number  at  pleasure,  and  turn 
the  suffrages  in  his  favour  by  the  accession  of  new 
lords,  and  exercise  further  influence  by  the  prospect 
of  rank  and  of  advancement  for  the  body  of  the  peer- 
age, and  by  ecclesiastical  promotion  for  the  bench  of 
bishops  ? 

Instead  of  reasoning  upon  a  deceitful  word,  let  us 
consider  the  effects.  It  is  the  reciprocal  dependence 
of  these  three  powers  which  produces  their  harmony, 
subjects  them  to  fixed  rules,  and  gives  them  a  sys- 
tematic and  sustained  march.  Hence  the  necessity 
of  respecting,  of  observing,  of  honouring,  and  of  con- 
ciliating each  other.  If  they  were  absolutely  inde- 
pendent, there  would  be  continual  shocks  among  them. 
It  would  often  be  necessary  to  appeal  to  force  ;  and 
they  might  as  well  return  at  once  to  pure  democracy, 
that  is  to  say,  anarchy. 

I  cannot  forbear  giving  two  more  examples  of  that 
error  of  reasoning,  founded  upon  abusive  terms. 

If  we  erect  a  political  theory  upon  the  ground  of 
national  representation,  in  attaching  ourselves  to  what- 

(66)  Blackstono  calls  him  the  fountain  of  honour.  He  might  have  added — 
which  ebbs  and  flows  with  the  changes  of  the  moon.  N. 


302  DUMONT'S   BENTHAM. 

ever  appears  a  natural  consequence  of  that  abstract 
idea,  we  soon  begin  to  contend  for  universal  suffrage, 
and  from  consequence  to  consequence,  we  proceed  at 
last  to  show  that  the  representatives  ought  to  be  re- 
newed as  often  as  possible,  to  the  end  that  the  na- 
tional representation  may  deserve  the  name. 

If  we  submit  this  question  to  the  principle  of  UTI- 
LITY, we  do  not  reason  upon  the  word  ;  we  look  only 
to  the  effect.  When  it  concerns  the  election  of  a 
legislative  assembly,  we  ought  to  give  the  right  of 
voting  only  to  such  as  are  supposed  to  have  the  confi- 
dence of  the  people  for  exercising  it. 

The  choice  made  by  men  who  have  not  the  confi- 
dence of  the  people,  would  weaken  their  confidence 
in  the  legislative  assembly. 

The  men  who  have  not  the  confidence  of  the  peo- 
ple, are  those  in  whom  political  integrity,  and  a  pro- 
per degree  of  necessary  knowledge,  cannot  be  pre- 
sumed. 

Political  integrity  cannot  be  presumed  in  those 
whom  want  may  expose  to  the  temptation  of  selling 
it,  in  those  who  have  no  fixed  place  of  habitation, 
nor  in  those  who  have  been  scourged  by  justice  for 
certain  offences  determined  by  the  law. 

The  necessary  degree  of  knowledge  cannot  be 
presumed  in  women,  who,  by  their  domestic  duties, 
are  led  away  from  the  consideration  of  national  af- 
fairs ;  in  children,  and  in  adults  below  a  certain  age ; 
nor  in  those,  who  by  their  poverty  are  deprived  of  the 
first  elements  of  education.  (67) 

It  is  upon  these  principles,  and  upon  others  like 
them,  that  we  are  to  establish  the  necessary  qualifi- 
cations of  a  voter  ;  and  it  is  also  from  a  consideration 

(67)  Cannot  be  presumed,  to  be  sure;  but  may  be  proved.  And  else- 
where, the  author  himself  goes  far  toward  proving  the  propriety  of  a  change, 
where  he  acknowledges  that  women,  instead  of  being  represented  by  men, 
because  their  interests  are  the  same,  are  not  represented  at  all,  because,  in 
fact,  their  interests  are  not  the  same,  but  on  the  contrary,  opposed  to  each 
other.  Mr.  Bentham  is  now  an  advocate  for  universal  suffrage.  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  303 

of  the  advantages  and  the  disadvantages  of  change, 
that  we  are  to  reason  respecting  the  duration  of  the 
legislative  assembly,  without  entering  into  any  con- 
siderations drawn  from  an  abstract  term. 

The  last  example  that  I  have  to  adduce,  is  taken 
from  contracts ;  or  rather  from  the  different  political 
fictions,  imagined  under  the  name  of  contracts.  I 
have  already  condemned  them  as  fictions.  (68)  I  now 
condemn  them  as  begging  the  question. 

When  Locke  or  Rousseau  reasons  upon  this  imagi- 
nary contract ;  when  they  affirm  that  the  social  or 
political  contract  includes  such  or  such  a  clause,  could 
they  prove  it  otherwise  than  by  the  general  advan- 
tage supposed  to  result  from  it?  Let  us  grant  to 
them,  if  they  will,  that  this  contract,  which  was 
never  put  into  shape,  is  actually  in  existence.  On 
what  does  its  value  depend  ?  Is  it  not  upon  its  utili- 
ty ?  Why  are  its  engagements  to  be  kept  ?  Because 
good  faith  in  promises,  is  the  very  foundation  of  so- 
ciety. It  is  for  the  advantage  of  all,  that  the  pro- 
mises of  each  individual  should  be  sacred.  There 
would  be  no  safety  among  men,  no  commerce,  no 
confidence.  We  might  go  back  to  the  woods  again 
with  our  enquiry,  if  engagements  had  no  binding  vir- 
tue. It  would  be  the  same  with  political  contracts. 
It  is  their  utility  which  constitutes  their  strength  ;  if 
they  grow  hurtful,  they  have  no  strength.  If  the 
law  had  undertaken  to  make  the  people  unhappy, 
would  the  engagement  be  valid?  If  the  people  were 
bound  to  obey  at  all  events,  would  they  be  bound  to 
suffer  themselves  to  be  destroyed  by  a  Nero  or  a  Ca- 
ligula, rather  than  to  violate  their  promise  ?  If  there 
should  result  from  the  contract,  effects  universally 
hurtful,  would  there  be  any  sufficient  reason  for  main- 
taining it  ?  Nobody  can  deny,  therefore,  that  the 
validity  of  the  contract  is  at  the  bottom  dependent 

(68)  The  word  fict ions  here,  is  what  the  author  himself  would  denounce 
as  dislogistic.    How  hard  to  avoid  this  fault!     IS 


304  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

upon  the  question  of  Utility,  a  little  wrapped  up,  a 
little  disguised,  and  consequently  rather  susceptible 
of  false  interpretation. 

10.  Imaginary  law  is  not  reason. 

Natural  law,  natural  right ;  two  sorts  of  fiction  or 
metaphor,  which  play  so  great  a  part,  nevertheless, 
in  the  works  of  legislation,  as  to  deserve  a  particular 
notice. 

The  primitive  sense  of  the  word  law,  is  the  vul- 
gar sense — it  is  the  will  of  the  legislator.  The  Law 
of  Nature  is  a  figurative  expression.  Nature  is  repre- 
sented as  a  being  ;  such  and  such  a  disposition  is  at- 
tributed to  her,  which  is  called,  figuratively,  law.  In 
this  sense,  all  the  general  inclinations  of  men,  all  those 
which  appear  to  exist  independently  of  human  soci- 
ety, and  which  ought  to  have  preceded  the  establish- 
ment of  political  and  civil  laws,  are  called  laws  of  na- 
ture. Such  is  the  true  sense  of  the  words. 

But  people  do  not  so  understand  it.  Authors  have 
taken  the  words  as  if  they  had  a  peculiar  sense — as 
if  there  was  a  code  of  natural  laws.  They  appeal 
to  these  laws,  they  cite  them  ;  they  oppose  them  li- 
terally to  the  laws  of  the  legislator,  and  they  do  not 
perceive  that  these  natural  laws  are  laws  of  their 
own  invention  ;  that  they  all  contradict  themselves 
upon  this  imaginary  code  ;  that  they  are  obliged  to 
affirm  without  proof;  that  there  are  as  many  systems 
as  writers  ;  and  that  in  reasoning  in  that  manner,  they 
are  always  obliged  to  begin  anew,  because  upon  ima- 
ginary laws  every  one  may  say  what  he  pleases,  and 
disputes  are  interminable. 

What  there  is  natural  in  man,  are  the  sentiments 
of  pain  and  pleasure — inclinations  ;  but  to  call  these 
sentiments,  and  these  inclinations  laws,  would  be  to 
introduce  a  false  and  dangerous  idea ;  to  put  language 
in  opposition  with  itself;  since  it  is  necessary  to  make 
laws  for  the  very  purpose  of  controlling  these  inclina- 
tions. Instead  of  regarding  them  as  laws,  we  are 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  305 

obliged  to  subject  them  to  laws.  It  is  against  the 
strongest  natural  inclinations,  that  the  most  rigorous- 
ly repressing  laws  are  to  be  made.  If  there  was  a 
law  of  nature  which  directed  all  men  toward  their 
common  good,  laws  would  be  of  no  use.  It  would 
be  to  employ  a  reed  to  support  an  oak  ;  it  would  be 
to  hold  up  a  torch  to  the  noon-day  sun. 

Blackstone,  while  speaking  of  the  obligation  of  pa- 
rents to  provide  for  their  offspring,  says,  'It  is  a 
principle  of  the  natural  law,  a  duty  imposed  by  na- 
ture herself,  and  by  their  own  act  in  bringing  them 
into  the  world  ;  and  Montesquieu,  adds  he,  observes 
with  reason,  that  the  natural  obligation  of  the  father 
to  provide  for  his  children,  is  that  which  has  given 
rise  to  marriage,  which  determines  who  it  is  that 
ought  to  fulfil  that  obligation."  (Lib.  I.,  ch.  1 6. )  (69) 

Parents  are  disposed  to  bring  up  their  children ;  pa- 
rents ought  to  bring  up  their  children  :  these  are  two 
different  propositions.  The  first  does  not  suppose 
the  second  ;  the  second  does  not  suppose  the  first. 
There  are  undoubtedly  very  strong  reasons  for  impos- 
ing upon  parents  the  obligation  of  providing  for  their 
children.  Why  are  they  not  given  by  Blackstone 
and  Montesquieu  ?  Why  do  they  refer  to  what  they 
call  the  law  of  nature6?  What  is  that  law  of  nature 
which  needs  the  secondary  law  of  another  legislator  ? 
If  that  natural  obligation  existed,  as  Montesquieu 
says,  far  from  being  the  ground  of  marriage,  it  would 
prove  the  inutility  of  it:  at  least  for  the  end  assigned 
by  him  :  one  of  the  objects  of  marriage  is  to  supply 
the  insufficiency  of  natural  affection.  It  is  intend- 
ed to  convert  into  an  obligation,  that  inclination  of 
the  parents  which  would  not  always  be  sufficiently 
strong  to  overcome  the  trouble  and  embarrassment  of 
education. 

(69)  Blackstone  is  never  touched  by  our  author,  but  with  a  dissecting  knife, 
which  goes  to  the  nerves  and  marrow  of  the  judge.    N 

39 


306  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

Men  are  much  disposed  to  provide  for  themselves  : 
there  is  no  occasion  for  a  law  to  oblige  them  to  do 
this.  If  the  disposition  of  parents  to  provide  for 
their  children  was  universally  and  constantly  as 
strong,  it  would  never  have  come  into  the  thought  of 
lawgivers  to  make  an  obligation  of  it. 

The  exposure  of  infants,  so  common  once  among 
the  Greeks,  is  yet  more  so  now  in  China.  To  over- 
awe that  practice,  are  we  to  allege  no  other  reasons 
than  that  imaginary  law  of  nature  which  is  clearly 
inefficient? 

The  word  right,  like  the  word  law,  has  two  mean- 
ings;  a  proper  meaning,  and  a  metaphorical  one. 
Right,  properly  speaking,  is  the  creature  of  law,  pro- 
perly speaking :  real  laws  give  birth  to  real  rights. 
The  natural  right  is  the  creature  of  natural  law  ;  it 
is  a  metaphor,  which  owes  its  existence  to  another 
metaphor. 

What  there  is  natural  in  man,  are  his  means  and 
faculties ;  but  to  call  these  means,  these  faculties, 
natural  rights,  is  again  to  put  language  in  opposition 
to  itself ;  for  rights  are  established  to  assure  the  ex- 
ercise of  means  and  faculties.  The  right  is  the  guar- 
antee ;  the  faculty  is  the  thing  guarantied.  How  are 
we  to  understand  a  language  that  confounds  under  a 
common  term,  two  things  so  distinct  ?  Where  would 
be  the  nomenclature  of  the  arts,  if  we  gave  to  the 
trade  or  the  tools,  the  same  name  that  we  give  to  the 
work  ? 

Real  right  is  always  employed  in  a  legal  sense ;  na- 
tural right  is  often  employed  in  an  anti-legal  sense. 
When  we  say,  for  example,  that  the  law  cannot  offend 
against  natural  right,  we  employ  the  word  right  in  a 
sense  superior  to  the  law,  we  recognise  a  right  which 
defeats  the  law,  which  reverses  and  annuls  it. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  307 

In  the  anti-legal  sense,  the  word  right  is  the  great- 
est enemy  of  reason,  and  the  most  terrible  destroyer 
of  governments. 

We  cannot  reason  with  fanatics  armed  with  natural 
right,  which  every  one  understands  just  as  he  likes 
— applies  as  it  may  suit  him  ;  of  which  he  can  yield 
up  no  part,  retrench  no  part ;  which  is  inflexible  at 
the  same  time  that  it  is  unintelligible ;  which  is  con- 
secrated to  his  eyes  as  a  dogma,  and  from  which  we 
cannot  depart  without  crime.  Instead  of  examining 
the  laws  by  their  effects  ;  instead  of  adjudging  them 
as  good  or  bad,  they  consider  them  with  relation  to 
this  pretended  natural  right — that  is  to  say,  they  sub- 
stitute for  the  reasoning  of  experience,  the  chimeras 
of  their  imagination. 

There  is  no  innocent  error ;  we  slide  from  spe- 
culation into  practice.  *  We  must  obey  the  laws 
that  are  agreeable  to  nature.  Others  are  null,  be- 
cause of  their  disagreement  with  nature  :  and  instead 
of  obeying  them,  we  are  bound  to  resist  them.  From 
the  moment  natural  rights  are  attacked,  every  virtu- 
ous citizen  ou°;ht  to  be  ardent  in  their  defence.  These 
self-evident  rights  need  not  be  proved  ;  it  is  enough 
to  declare  them.  How  are  we  to  prove  them  ?  To 
doubt,  implies  a  deficiency  of  common-sense,  or  of 
common  honesty  !' 

But  that  I  may  not  be  charged  with  preaching  se- 
ditious maxims  gratuitously,  to  these  inspired  politi- 
cians, I  will  cite  a  positive  passage  from  Blackstone  ; 
and  I  prefer  Blackstone,  because,  of  all  writers,  he 
is  the  one  who  has  betrayed  the  most  profound  re- 
spect for  the  authority  of  governments.  ( 1  Com.,  p. 
42.)  In  speaking  of  the  imaginary  laws  of  nature,  and 
of  the  laws  of  revelation — *  We  ought  not  to  suffer,' 
says  he,  '  that  human  laws  should  contradict  those 


308  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

(of  nature)  :  if  a  human  law  ordains  a  thing  forbidden 
by  the  natural  or  divine  law,  we  are  bound  to  trans- 
gress the  human  law.' 

O 

Is  not  this  enough  to  arm  all  fanatics  against  all 
governments  ?  Among  the  immense  variety  of  ideas 
upon  the  natural  law,  and  the  divine  law,  will  not 
each  one  find  some  reason  for  resisting  all  human  law  ? 
Is  there  a  single  state,  which  would  be  able  to  main- 
tain itself  a  single  day,  if  every  one  supposed  him- 
self conscientiously  required  to  resist  the  law  ?  save 
where  they  were  conformable  to  his  particular  ideas 
upon  the  natural  and  the  revealed  law. — What  a  hor- 
rible cut-throat  among  all  the  interpreters  of  the  code 
of  nature,  and  of  all  religious  sects  ? 

*  The  pursuit  of  happiness  is  a  natural  right.'  (70) 
The  pursuit  of  happiness  is  certainly  a  natural  inclina- 
tion ;  but  can  we  call  it  a  natural  right  ?  That  de- 
pends upon  the  mode  of  pursuit.  The  assassin  pur- 
sues his  happiness  by  assassination.  Has  he  the  right 
to  do  so  ?  If  he  has  not,  why  declare  it  ?  What  tend- 
ency in  that  declaration  is  there,  to  make  men  hap- 
pier or  wiser  ? 

Turgot  was  a  great  man  :  but  he  had  adopted  the 
common  opinion  without  examination.  Unalienable 
and;  natural  rights  were  the  despotism  and  the  dogma- 
tism which  he  desired  to  exercise  without  having  it 

\  C-J 

$een.  If  he  saw  no  reason  for  doubting  a  proposition; 
if  he  thought  it  a  self-evident  truth,  he  referred  it, 
without  going  further,  to  natural  right,  to  eternal  jus- 

(70)  Here  we  have  a  sly  allusion  to  our  celebrated  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence ;  a  paper  which  our  author  examined  once  paragraph  by  paragragh,  with 
an  acuteness  and  vigour,  which  were  never  exceeded.  Take  one  example — We 
declare  that  certain  rights  (!)  are  inalienable,  among  which  (rights  .')  are 
life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  !  But  if  they  are  inalienable,  how 
comes  it  that  our  legislators  may  deprive  us  of  them  ?  How  can  they  exercise 
the  right  of  confining  us — of  hindering  our  pursuit  of  happiness,  of  taking  away 
our  property,  or  of  putting  us  to  death,  unless  we  give  it  to  them  ?  And  how 
can  we  give  them  a  right,  which  we  ourselves  have  not  ?  In  other  words,  how 
are  we  to  alienate  what  is  inalienable  ?  N. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  LEGISLATION.  309 

tice.      He  made  use  of  it  then  as  an  article  of  faith, 
which  it  was  no  longer  lawful  to  examine. 

Utility  having  been  often  misapplied,  when  under- 
stood in  a  restricted  sense ;  having  lent  her  name  to 
crimes,  had  appeared  contrary  to  eternal  justice.  She 
was  degraded  ;  she  had  a  mercenary  reputation  ;  and 
courage  was  necessary  to  restore  her  to  honour,  and 
to  re-establish  logic  upon  its  true  foundations. 

Let  us  make  a  treaty  with  the  partizans  of  natural 
right.  If  Nature  has  made  such  or  such  a  law,  those 
who  cite  it  with  so  much  confidence,  those  who  have 
modestly  taken  upon  themselves  to  be  her  inter- 
preters, ought  to  suppose  that  she  had  her  reasons  lor 
making  it.  Would  it  not  be  more  certain,  more  per- 
suasive, and  shorter,  to  give  us  those  reasons  directly, 
than  to  furnish  us  with  the  will  of  the  unknown  le- 
gislator, as  being  authority  of  itself? 

It  would  be  proper  here,  to  point  out  the  false 
paths,  through  which  one  is  particularly  liable  to  be 
dragged  in  deliberative  assemblies;  (71)  personali- 
ties, imputations  of  motive  ;  tediousness ;  declama- 
tion ;  but  what  has  been  said,  will  suffice  for  charac- 
terizing what  is  reason,  and  what  is  not,  under  the 
principle  of  UTILITY. 

All  these  false  modes  of  reasoning  may  always  be 
reduced  to  the  one  or  the  other  of  two  false  princi- 
ples. This  fundamental  distinction  is  of  great  utility 
for  giving  clearness  to  ideas,  and  brevity  to  language. 
To  be  able  to  refer  such  or  such  reasoning  to  one  of 
two  false  principles,  is  to  tie  up  the  weeds  in  a  bun- 
dle, that  they  may  be  cast  into  the  fire. 

I  shall  finish  with  a  general  observation.  The  lan- 
guage of  error  is  always  obscure,  feeble,  and  change- 
able. A  great  abundance  of  words  only  serves  to 
hide  the  poverty  and  falsity  of  ideas.  The  more  the 

(71)  This  our  author  has  done  elsewhere,  in  the  BOOK  OF  FALLACIES  ; 
they  are  only  referred  to  here.  N. 


310  DUMONT'S  BENTHAM. 

terms  are  varied,  the  more  easy  it  is  to  lead  people 
astray.  The  language  of  truth  is  uniform  and  simple: 
the  same  ideas,  the  same  terms.  All  these  refer  to 
pleasures  and  to  pains.  We  avoid  all  that  may  hide 
or  intercept  that  familiar  notion. — From  such  or  such 
an  act,  results  such  or  such  an  impression  of  pain  or  plea- 
sure. Do  not  trust  to  me  ;  trust  to  experience  ;  and 
above  all,  to  your  own.  Between  two  opposite  modes  of 
action,  would  you  know  to  which  the  preference  is  due  ? 
Calculate  the  effects,  in  good  and  ill,  and  decide  for 
that  which  promises  the  greatest  amount  of  happiness. 


THE  END 


